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FRANK TOUSEY, 

PTihijaher. 
34& 36 N. Moore St., 

New York. 



THE BOYS' STAR LIBRARY. \t 



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New York, January 3, 1891, 



Issued Eteby Saturday 






OR, 





By HAi^KY jKE]Vr^EX>Y3 
Author of Around the World in the Air; or. The Adventures of a Flying Man," eta, etc., etc. 



CHAPTER 1. 

THE TWO FRIENDS. 

Two young men were hurrying down Broadway one after- 
noon, going in opposite directions, ai d collided violently 
with each other. 

Both apologized as they picked up their hats. 

"Beg your pardon, sir," said one, with very constrained 
politeness. 

*'Ah, I beg yours, sir," responded the other. ''It was my 
fau — Why, halloo, Horace, you old rascal; did you do that 
on purpose?" 

"Ha— ha — ha!" laughed the other, heartily. "Is It you 
Tom, old fellow? I never ^knew you to have so mucii mo- 
mentum before!" and he grasped the hand of an old college 
chum, shaking it with a heartiness that made his teeth 
chatter. 

"Momentum be hanged!" responded the other, cordially 
returning the hand shaking, " Have you converted yourself 
into a battering ram, warranted to butt everything ofl" the 
track? If I ever had any momentum, as you call it, you've 
knocked it all out of me. What have you been doing since 
we left Princeton — and where are you going now?" 

"There you are with your confounded Yankee inquisitive- 
ness again!" laughed Horace, good naturedly . " Will you 
never get done answering questions by asking more? Are 
you in much of a hurry now?" 

"No— what's up >" 

" Come with me, then. I want to tell you something," 
and he ran his arm throufifh that of his friend, and turned 
him back down Broadway. 

"I'll wager a bottle of champagne that you've been in- 
venting some infernal machine or other," said Tom, as they 
resumed their walk. "You are never still except when en- 
gaged in such deviltry," 

Horjice laughed, saying: 

"I have been busy on an invention which I am perfecting^ 
but I hardly think it can justly be called an infernal ma- 
chine." 

" What is it, then?" 

" Well, that is what I will not tell you just now, but come 
up home with me, and I'll show it to you." 

" All right, I'll do it, old fellow. Ha, ha! 
that automatic door-knocker you fastened 
door ni Princeton one night. Lord, how 
that door and alarm th6 whole neighborhood 
getting up something of that kind again?" 

"Something better, old fellow, and it will create a bigger 
sensation, too." 



I'll never forget 
on old Stubb's 
it did bang on 
! Have you been 



" My curiosity is aroused. What the deuce is it, any- 
how?" 

" Restrain yourself, my dear boy. Here, come in here a 
moment," and turning into a store, Horace led the way down 
to the further end, where he asked to see a certain salesman, 
who came forward promptly. 

"Is my package ready?" 

" Yes, sir," and the salesman went into an inner office and 
brought out a fc^mall parcel securely wrapped in paper, and 
handed it to him. ' " 

Horace paid for it, and then went out, followed by Tom. 

"Now I am ready to go," he said to his friend. "Let's 
take a stage for the depot." 

"Do you really mean lor me to go up home with you, 
Horace?" Tom asked. 

" Of course I do," responded Horace, " and if you don't 
go I will en(»mpas3 your destruction in a perfectly legal 
manner." 

" That settles it. Lead on," and they hailed and entered 
an up town stage which carried them to the 42d street 
depot, where they entered the cars for Greystone, the home 
of Horace Mellville's parents. 

Horace Mellville and Tom Draper were classmates at 
Princeton College four years, and were therefore intimate 
friends. 

This was their first meeting since leaving college, and, o^ 
course, they had much to say to each other. 

It was only a few minutes 'ride to Greystone, so they were 
soon there. 

" Here we are," said Horace, as the train slowed 
leading the way out of the car. 

Tom followed, and In another minute or two they were 
walking down a beautifully-shaded street which led towards 
the river. 

Greystone was a lovely place, which took its name from 
the large, old-fashioned building, or mansion, rather, occu- 
pied by the MellvlUes. It was built of gray stone, fronted 
the Hudson, giving a fine view of the noble river from the, 
broad veranda. 

Tom had been there before with Horace, having spent two 
vacations with him, and therefore knew the family quite in 
timately. 

He was welcomed very cordially— particularly by Laura — 
Horace's only sister, and his father. 

"Ah, Tom, my boy," greeted the elder Mellville, "I am 
glad to see you again. Haven't seen you since you left 
Princeton. Where have you been nil this while?" 

"Down in the city, sir," said Tom, turning and grasping: 



up, 



THE FLYING MAN. 



the hand of Laura. You don't know how glad 1 am to see 
you, Laura!" 

" Come. Tom, you sly rascal," exclaimed ttie young maiden, 
who, having no sisters and an only brother, was almost like 
a boy in her manners. " I don't believe a word of that. You 
know the way to Greystone and didn't come." 

"Don't be hard on"a fellow, Laura," replied Tom, lauojh- 
ing. "You know I am glad to see you. I have a hundred 
friends I woukl be glad to meet, but I can't go to see them 
all." 

"Of course not. You are studying law now, and must 
learn to give reasons whether you believe them or not," and 
the mischievous maiden looked aa independent as you 
please. 

" My advice to you is " 

"Is it professional advice^ Tom," she asked, interrupting 
him. 

Tom colored visibly. 

" Poor fellow!" she laughed, "your cheek isn't hard 
enough for a lawyer yet. A successful lawyer never blushes," 
and the elder Melville laughed immoderately at poor Tom's 
expense. 

"Never mind, my boy," he said, "I've got a case for you 
now. It will make your fortune if you win it." 
Tom looked up eagerly. 
"What is it?" he asked. 

" Tame ;hat girl, there, and put some sensible ideas in my 
boy's head," replied the father, 
Tom gave a prolonged whistle. 

" I can manage Horace, I think, sir," he said, " but she — 
send for Yan Amburgh!" and he shook his head dolefully. 
Mr. Melville roared, but Laura's eyes only sparkled. 
She was by do means conquered. 

Horace had slipped out of the room and was nowhere to 
be seen. 

"Yes," she retorted, "Yan Amburgh for me, and an 
Italian organ-grinder for him. He's very gentle now." 
Tom's eyes flashed. 

"Laura"," he exclaimed, "I'll take the case of both. I'll 
tame you until you can be led by a hair!" 

" That's a bargain!" she cried, extending her hand, which 
he clasped cordially in his. 

"Look out for broken heads," jocosely remarked her 
father, as he enjoyed the tilt between them. 

" Where is Horace?" Tom asked, looking around for his 
old chum. 

"Oh, he's out in his workshop," said Mr. Mellville. 
" He's always up to something mysterious, working day 
and night, and spending money for things I know nothing 
of. I've made up my mind to let him go on until he sees 
that not'jing comes of it, and then, perhaps, he'll listen to 
reason and do something." 

Mr. Mehville was quite serious, and Tom could see that he 
felt deeply on the subject. 

" Horace was the most talented and ingenious of all the 
class," said Tom, "and every one in college recognized the 
fact." 

" Good for you, Tom," said Laura. " You'll make a law- 
yer. Come. Let's go see what brother is doing," and tak- 
ing possession of him, she led the way out of the house, 
across a lawn to an old shed, which had been patched up 
into a respectable-looking workshop. 



CHAPTER II. 

THE FLYING MAN— TRIUMPH OF GENIUS. 

When they entered the shop they found Horace, with his 
coat off, busily engaged at work on a very curious-looking 
machine. 

" I thought I wouldn't wait for you," said Horace, by way 
of apology, to his old friend, "as 'l knew father and Laura 
would keep you for some time." 

"Oh, that's all right," said Tom, laughing, "only you 
bring a fellow into great peril and then desert him." 



Horace looked up from his work in some surprise anil 
asked : 

"Peril? I don't understand you." 

"You don't? Haven't you got any more sympathy (or a 
fellow than to leave him to the tender mercies of this girl?" 

"Oh!" and Horace smiled audibly. "She has been lash- 
ing you, has she? Well, you deserve it, for she is the best 
girl that ever lived, and seldom pitches into any one with- 
out just cause" 

" There, brother," said Laura, smiling, " I shall tell father 
that you are becoming sane again." 

"Do so, and see if you can manage to keep him off here 
for a day or two. I am just on the eve of finishing this 
thing.' 

"What In the deuce is it?" Tom asked, as he stared at the 
most intricate- looking framework of steel, silk and wire he 
had ever seen. 

" Oh, don't ask him anything about it," said Laura. "He 
wouldn't tell you to save your life. If he were to tell you 
after refusing so often to lell me, I would disown and uism- 
herit him, the ungrateful wretch!" 

"How long has he been working at it?" Tom vejatured to 
ask. 

" Ever since he came home from Princeton," she replied. 
" And he has all this time refused to tell you what, he was 
doing?" 
"Yes." 

" Laura, let's murder him and throw him into the river!" 

"I've had the notion of doing so several times," she said, 
" but one day he condescended to tell me that he was trying 
to invent something which, if he succeeded, would make 
him famous. If he failed, he would be laughed at lor ail 
time, hence he resolved to keep it a secret." 

"I'm glad you have told me that, Laura," replied Tom. 
"It shows his head is level. Go ahead, old fellow, and do 
your best." 

Horace kept busy at his work during the conservation, 
looking up now and then at his beautiful sister, whom he 
had almost worshiped. He seemed to be completely wrap- 
ped up in his work — charmed to helplessness to resist it — and 
would scarcely stop long enough to eat his meals. 

After a while Laura returned to the house, leaving Horace 
and his friend alone together. 

Tom sat down and watched him for two hours, trying to 
get some idea of what the thing was he was making. 

At last Laura came and took hirn away, saying: 

" You might sit there a week and brother wouldn't even 
know you were present. Come and walk with me among the 
flowers. I have some very rare ones which I want to show 
you." 

"Thanks! That would certainly be more pleasant than 
sitting here in silence, watching something one can't under- 
stand, though I must confess I am greatly interested." 

"Yes, of course; mystery always interests one;" and 
Laura led him away among her collection of very rare 
flowers, of which she was very fond. 

They wandered about for over an hour, and then r^eturned 
to the house, where she seated herself at the piano, and 
played and sang till the announcement for supper was made. 

Horace had to be sent for twice before he appeared at the 
table. 

He seemed somewhat excited. 

"Tom," he said, "I'll give you a surprise to-morrow 
morning. Only a few more touches, and then I will ^e done 
with it." 

" I'll wait for it," said Tom, smiling." 

After supper Horace went back to his shop, leaving Tom 
to the care of Laura, who seemed to like the task of enter- 
taining him. He did not see him again until the next morn- 
ing, when Horace met him with an enthusiastic greeting. 

" I've finished it, old fellow '." 

*« Well, what is it now?" 

" Wait and see—wait and see." 

After breakfast they went out to the shop together, and 



4 THE FLYING MAN, 



tliere Tom saw spread out upon the floor a pecaiar frame- 
work, the nature of which lie could not understand, and a 
pair of immense wings made of several thicknesses of sill?. 
Above it, connected by polished, slender steel rods, was a 
series of silk leaves, like the leaves of a wind-mill. Attached 
to these were a series of self-adjusting frames, cogs, treadles, 
etc., all light and durable. 

The huge silk wings reached at least thirty feet from tip to 
tip, looking like an immense vampire bat, yet, when Horace 
touched a certain spring, they quickly folded up, the wind- 
mill leaves closed like a great umbrella and dropped down 
and were buried under the great silk wings, the whole thing 
resolving itself into a son of knapsack about two feet by 
four in size, with straps and buckles attached. 

" What do you think of that?" Horace asked triumphantly. 

"Horace," said Tom, have you been trying to make a 
flying machine?" 

, Yes, and have succeeded," was the elated reply. 

" Never! It has been tried too often. I am sorry for you, 
but you are doomed to a terrible disappointment, even if you 
do not break your neck." 

Oh, I don't blame you," chuckled Horace. " Your eyes 
will yet see what your mind cannot graspl Here, help me on 
with'^this,'' and taking up the Icnapsack just as it lay on the 
floor, he proceeded to fasten it to his body by means of sev- 
eral strong leather straps. 

When securely attached he looked like a peddler with his 
pack on his back, reaching from a level with the top of his 
head to the bend of his knees. 

" What are you going to do now!" 

"Wait and see— wait and see," and Horace rushed out of 
the shop, followed by Tom, who was now thoroughly ex- 
cited. 

Just as Horace reached an open place in the splendid lawn 
that sloped gently down towards the river, he met his father, 
mother and sister on their way to the shop to see what bis 
labors had amounted to. 

At sight of him with the huge pack on his back, all three 
stared at him in mute suprise. 

A look of disgust came over Mr. Mellville's face as he 
glared at the pack. 

"The mountain has brought forth a mouse," he said, bit- 
terly. " He has invented a peddler's pack. He will want no 
patent It and call it the *Mellville pack,' no doubt. I am 
pained and disgusted beyond measure. Over $1,000 spent 
on a peddler's pack I This is the result of over indulgence in 
hobbies." 

Horace did net hear the bitter comments of his father, for 
he ran out into an open space where there were no trees to 
obstruct his movements, touched a secret spring in the knap- 
sack, causing the steel rod to shooi up several feet above his 
head, and the immense wind-mill leaves to spread out like a 
canopy over him. 

The elder Mellville stared now in still greater surprise. 

Touching another spring, a light, self-adjusting treadle 
dropped down behind almost to the ground. Adjusting his 
foot in the treadle, he worked it up and down rapidly. The 
canopy revolved with noiseless celerity, and the next moment 
Horace began to ascend, rising quite'rapidly till he reached 
a point above the tree tops. Then touching another spring, 
the great wings stretched out, as if from his back and shoul- 
ders, waving up and down with the gracefulness of an eagle. 
With each motion of the wings he ascended higher and 
higher, 

" Horace— Horace, my son!" shouted Mr. Mellville, franti- 
cally, running forward and waving his cane wildly above 
his head. " Come down, for Heaven's sake come down!" 

Mrs. Mellville, white as a sheet, ran forward, wringing 
her hands and screaming at the top of her voice. But 
Laura ran up to Tom, and clutching him by the arm, ex- 
claimed: 

"He has succeeded! Oh, thank God, he has succeeded!" 
and then fainted dead away. 
Tom caught her in his arms, laid her gently on the grass, 



her head rvsclining on his knee, yet keeping his eyes riveted 
on his flying friend as he sailed majestically over the Hudson 
to the other side. 

When he was but half way over, Mrs. Mellville gave one 
prolonged, despairing shriek, and swooned away. 

Two of the servants carried her into the house, while Mr. 
Mellville continued to run and shout till he reached the 
water's edge. 

There he stood and watched until he saw Horace alight on 
the high biuff on the other side, and knew that he was safe. 

He then returned to the house to look after his wife, while 
Tom busied himself in rubbing Laura's hands and temples. 

She soon came to, and looked up at Tom with a faint 
smile. 

"You are better now?" he said. 

"Yes. I am ashamed of my weakness. I never fainted 
before in my life." 

" I can't blame you. I never was so much surprised in 
my life. I fully expected to see him fall and be dashed to 
pieces, but he alighted safely on the other side." 

" Tom, brother is a great man. 1 am proud of him," and 
she got up and went down to the river bank to see him fly 
over again. 

Horace soon arose in the air, spread out his immense 
wings, and sailed majestically up to a towering height, work- 
ing the treadle with his feet,' and until he had ascended as 
liigh as he wished to go, when he ceased using the treadle, 
and sailed around in great circles as vultures and eagles do, 
looking like a sreat human vampire, a thousand times larger 
than the most distorted imagination had ever conceived. 

Tom kept his eyes on him, dreading an accident of some 
kind. 

But instead of that he saw Horace touch another spring, 
and the frame work immediately adjusted a scrt of skele- 
ton arm chair, in which he sat and sailed around at ease. 

" It is the triumph of science and inventive genius," he 
said to Laura, who still stood by his side on the river 
bank. 

"Yes," replied she. "He has succeeded, and it will be a 
surprise to the world. But it must be dangerous. Look! 
He is coming down nowl" 

Horace saw them on the river bank, ^d concluded to 
alight near them. 

He circled around and around, , descending towards the 
earth with each sweep, and at last alighted on his feet, the 
wings and other paraphernalia instantly resolving itself into 
a knapsack on his back, 

" Brother— brother!" cried Laura, rushing forward and 
throwing her arms about his neck, kissing him all over his 
face. " Oh, I am proud of you!" 

Horace returned her caresses with joy and pride. 

Tom grasped his hand and exclaimed: 

" You have triumphed over the world, old fellow, and soon 
all the world will have heard of Horace Mellville." 

" I knew from the beginning that I could do it," said Hor- 
ace, his face flushed with pride and excitement. 

Just then nearly half a hundred excited people from the 
villasre came running down the lawn towards them. 

" Don't tell them," cautioned Horace, as they turned to 
walk towards the house. 

" We saw something like a man with wings fly down this 
way!" cried an excited villager. 

"Yes," said Tom, "so did we, but we don't see anything 
of him now." 

"Good heavens, what was it?" another asked. "It wasn't 
a balloon." 
"No. It looked to me like a flying man." 
" Did you see it, miss?" 

" Yes/' replied Laura. " I saw it and was frightened near- 
ly to death." ^ 

"What's that on your back, Horace?" another asked of 
Horace. 

" It's an apparatus of mine," was the reply. 
" Where did the thing go?" 



THE FLYING MAN. 



5 



"What was it?" 

"How near were you to it?" and a hundred other ques- 
tions were hurled at the trio in rapid succession, all of which 
were answered evasively. 

No one in the crowd suspected the truth, and pretty soon 
they entered the house, leaving the crowd eagerly discussing 
the strange phenomenon outside. 

Horace met his father in the dining-room as he was going 
in to see hia mother, and smiled. 

" What do you think of the peddler's pack, father?" 

Laura had reported his father's words to him. 

" It is wonderful, my son," he said, " but will be the death 
of you yet. If an accident were to happen you would be 
lost." 

"I have provided against all of that, father." 
But of what earthly use is it?" 

"Immense. To be able to travel thrdugh the air is a feat 
the world will appreciate. You can pass over a hostile coun- 
try, scale great heights, and do many other things that can- 
not now be done. But how is mother?" 

"You had better go in and see her. The shock was a ter- 
rible one." 

Horace went in and saw his mother lying pale and still on 
the bed. 

"I am safe, mother," he said, leaning over and imprinting 
an afiectionate kiss on her white forehead. 

She looked up at him and then burst into tears, 

" I never expected to see .you alive again," she said. ' 

He laughed and assured her that he was not in the least 
danger. Then taking the pack off his back he carried it into 
his room, where he deposited it on the bed. 

"I must have a strong chest made for it," he said, "or 
else buy a big trunk to keep it in. It wouldn't do to leave 
it out for any and everybody to be picking at to satisfy a 
morbid curiosity." 

He then went out to join Laura and Tom, who were now 
in the parlor. 



CHAPTER IIL 

THE BATTLE IN THE AIR. 

For hours people were coming and going, anxious to learn 
something about the strange monster they had seen in the 
air over Greystone. 

But they could learn nothing, as Horace did not care to 
bring out bis wonderful invention to show it and answer the 
thousand questions that would be asked. 

"What are you going to do with it now, Horace?" Tom 
asked, after they had been seated some time in the parlor. 

" I will take several trips with it," he said, "and then see 
what can be made out of it. I anticipate lots of fun with it. 
People in the country will think I am Gabriel, I guess, and 
be frightened out of their wits. I am going to start on a 
trip to the Catskills to-morrow morning." 

" How I wish 1 could go with you," said Laura. 

"So do I, but it won't carry two; besides, you are even 
heavier than I am." 

" Yes, I am a big lump pf sugar," said she, smiling* 

" I would eat you were you not my sister." 

"Just leave that pleasant job to me, Horace," remarked 
Tom. " Her father has given me the job of taming her." 

They laughed heartily and then went out to the workshop, 
where Horace busied himself in arranging his tools so as to 
keep them secure in hig absence. 

Early the next morning Horace prepared for his trip, tak- 
ing leave of his friend, who said he would return to the city, 
much against Laura's protest, kissed his mother and sister, 
and shaking hands with his father, strapped his knapsack 
on his back and went out on the lawn to make his ascent. 

He arose majestically in the air, not spreading his wings 
until be was up a thousand feet, when he stretched them 
forth and sailed away toward the blue-capped Catskills in 
the distance. 

Hundreds of villagers watched him until he seemed but a 



speck in the distance, and was at last cut off from view by 
an intervening cloud. 

" This is glorious," said Horace, seating himself in the 
silk net work and working the treadles with his feet. "She 
works like a charm! lean go against a hurricane almost. 
What a beautiful scene! It looks as though I can see a 
hundred miles of land. The Hudson looks like a broad 
ribbon of silver stretching away up towards Albanj^ losing 
itself in the distfince. How about the beasts of the lield 
and the fowls of the air now? Show me the eagle that can 
outfly me. There's a cloud ahead of me, and I'm going to 
go llirough it." ' 

In a few moments he was enveloped in a damp mist that 
shut out the sight of the earth, and he felt as though a 
lieavy dew was falling upon him. 

But he passed through the cloud out into the brilliant 
sunshine again, and swept grandly on over the Catskills, 
over the wildest, unfrequented parts, where tall peaks and 
dense woods seemed the abode of eternal solitude. 

Suddenly he heard a peculiar scream, and on looking to 
the left he saw two immense eagles swooping around and 
around, uttering their shrill cries, until five more joined 
them. 

"Ha-ha-hal" chuckled Horace. "I'm a bigger eagle 
than all seven of them put together! They don't know what 
to make of it. They are coming closer to see what it means. 
By George, I believe that follow intended to strike mel" 

The seven eagles now filled the air with their shrill cries, 
circling around him, darting here and there as though half 
inclined to attack. 

Suddenly one of them made a swoop at him, and fastened 
his claws on his cap, tearing it off his head and inflicting a 
scatch that caused blood to trickle down his forehead. 

" By George!" he exclaimed, "who'd iiave thought that? 
Wish I had brought my shot-gun! I'd pepper them well. 
If they all attack me at once I'll have my hands full. Con- 
found that rascally fellow!" 

An eagle made a swoop at bim, brushing his face with 
bis wing. y 

He had nothing but his hands to defend himself with, and 
was quite nervous, as their claws were like knives. 

" Try that again, old fellow," he said, as one of the feath- 
ered kings made a swoop close to him. "I think I can 
break your wing with my knife."' 

The next moment the eagle made another swoop,* and Hor- 
ace threw out his right hand with the knife to protect his 
face. The knife struck the left wing of the bird and almost 
severed it. 

With a shrill scream the eagle tumbled over and over, 
falling down — down to the mountain top half a mile below, 
while the others turned and made a combined attack on the 
bold invader of their exclusive domain. 



CHAPTER IV. 

CURING A FOOL. 

Of all the feathered tribe the eagle is said to be the fiercest. 
He will attack anything that presumes to intrude upon his 
domain. He has always been master in the air, and his shrill 
cry has never failed to send dismay and terror among the 
less powerful winged tribe. 

No doubt, when they first saw Horace with his immense 
wings outspread, they thought him an intruder whom they 
were bound to destroy or force to retire, hence the fierceness 
of their attack upon him. 

Horace saw the imminent danger in which he was placed, 
and knew that the chances were against him unless he could 
get something in his hand with which to beat them off. 

Already one had snatched his cap from his head, a sharp, 
steel-like claw inflicting a painful wound from which the 
blood trickled down his face. 

Those of our readers who do not know the strength or dar- 
ing of the great eagle can form some idea of it when he 
learns that he has been known to swoop down upon a flock 



6 THE FLYING MAN. 



of sheep, seize and carry away an almost full-grown ewe. 
He has been known to turn upon a large shepherd dog who 
tried to defend the sheep, drive his sliarp talons through his 
skull, killing him almost instantly; he has been known to 
seize and carry away small childreen. Knowing these famil- 
iar facts of eagle history it is not to be wondered at that 
Horace promptly realized his danger when the six eagles 
made their combined attack upon him. 

With only the knife with which he had disabled one he 
knew could not successfully contend witii them. 

If he could get near enough to strike with that they would 
be close enough to strike also, hence he would be in danger 
of losing an eye, or ear, or of having his jugular cat. 

Quick as a flash Jie unscrewed a steel rod that formed a 
part of the self-adjusting chair. It was about four feet long 
^ind weighed a little over two pounds. 

"Now come on, ye winged devils," he cried, wielding the 
rod triumphantly over his head. "You can't break my 
wings, but I can smash yours. Whoop— whack. How's 
that, eh?" and whirling the rod quickly around to the right 
he dealt one of his assailants a powerful blow on the head 
which sent him tumbling towards terra firma like a lump of 
lead. 

The eagles seemed to know that another one of their num- 
ber had been slain, and redoubled their savage attacks, cir- 
cling around him, shrilly screaming, and almost striking 
him in the face with their terrible talons. 

"Here's at you!" cried Horace, giving another blow 
that broke a wing. " Go down and keep the other company, 
and you, too!" dealing another blow that landed on an old fel- 
low's back with a force that would have almost felled an 
grown man. The eagle staggered, fell some ten or fifteen 
feet, recovered himself, and, with a defiant scream, retur/ied 
to the attack. 

"Plucky, but a feathered fool," said Horace, watching for 
an opportunity of finishing' him. 

There still being four of them, he had to be watchful and 
strike quick, for they are daring and quick themselves. He 
aimed several blows which were successfully dodged, seem- 
ing to jeer at him for his warn of skill. 

But after a few minutes of vigilant watchfulness he dealt 
another a blow that broke his wing, going over and over, 
screaming so frantically that the other three flew down to his 
assistance, as if they would fain try to uphold him. 

Horace watched them until the wounded eagle struck the 
earth— the others flying around the mountain top as though 
quite satisfied to let their unknown antagonist alone. 

If you would only bring back my cap," he said, "I would 
forgive you. But that can't be done, so I must go it bare- 
headed. This confounded muss has just played the deuce 
witii me. But I'll know what to do next time. I'll have ao 
arsenal full of weapons for defense, and have 'em handy, too. 
How I wish 1 could have captured one of those fellows and 
carried him home with me." 

Adjusting the steel rod back to its place in the skeleton 
chair, Horace seated himself and looked around at the broad 
panorama that lay before him, in search of some town or 
village. 

He could see nothing that indicated the presence of man. 

" This is the wildest part of the Catskills," he said. " No 
wonder the eagles are quite thick about here. I'll keep 
straight ahead and see how the land lies." 

As he was going at a pretty good rate he soon saw a large, 
white-looking spot on the mountain side, and on bringing 
his large opera glass to bear upon it, discovered that it was 
a large house. 

"That must be one of the mountain resorts," he said. "If 
it is I can get a hat there and find out where I am. There's 
an open place back of that woods there, a half mile away. 
I'll alight down and walk up to the house.'' 

So saying, he commenced working the wing treadles so as 
to enable him to make circles that brought him nearer and 
nearer at each round, till at last he touched the ground as 
lightly as though stepping down from a chair. 



" That was well done," he said. " Better than I expected. 
If a hard^wind had been blowing I could not have done it." 

And, touching the springs, everything quickly disappeared 
in the knap-sack on his back. 

He then started towards the house. ^ 

In a few minutes he struck a road leading in that direc- 
tion. 

He followed it. 

When almost in sight of the house he met several men 
who were running towards him. 

Each man carried a gun. 

They all seemed greatly excited. 

The foremost man rushed up to him with: 

"Say, you peddler fellow. Did you see it? Where did 
it alight?" 

Horace looked hard at him a moment or two, and then 
turned to the next man who came up, and asked : 
" What's the fool talking about?" 

" That's what we all want to know," replied the second 
man. " It seemed to have wings from tip to tip, and must 
have settled down just over there in that clearing,'' 

" Was it a bird?" he innocently asked. 

" Guess it must be," said another, " as they are about 
the only things that fly now-a-days." 

" Except riches," suggested Horace. 

" You didn't see it, then?" demanded another, somewhat 
angrily. 

" I haven't seen a bird to-day, sir, larger than an eagle, 
who impudently swooped down on me and snatched my cap 
off my head, giving me this scratch," and he pointed to the 
wound on his head and the blood on his face. 

"Did an eagle do that?" 

"Yes, sir." 

" But the thing we saw was larger than a thousand eagles," 
said one of the seven. 
Horace smiled. 

" What do they have to drink up at the house there?" he 
asked, and the incredulous smile on his face angered the 
man who first hailed him as a " peddler fellow," who turned 
on him with: 

" Sav, you called me a fool just now." 

"Did I?" 

" Yes, you did. I've a mind to give you a good thrashing 
for your Insolence." 

" You bad better change your mind then, and your man- 
ners, too, or j^ou'll get very ill. I always carry an antidote 
for fools with me. It cures them, but makes them very sick 
sometimes." 

His coolness angered the man still more, who handed his 
gun to a friend, threw off* his coat, and pranced around like 
a wild man. 

" Gentlemen," said Horace, " I am a stranger to you, but 
if you will give me your words of honor that you will not 
interfere, I'll cure your friend of his distressing malady in 
just three minuces." 

An elderly m_an, who had the appearance of a well-to-do 
city sport, stepped forward, gun in hand, and said: 

" I'll see you have fair play, young man, and bet $100 
that you are the best man. I will also bet $1,000 that I 
shoot the man who interferes with these pious proceedings." 

"That's enough, sir," said Horace, instantly unbuckling 
his pack and depositing it carefully on the ground. " I am 
a humanitarian in every sense of the word, never charging a 
penny for my services. Now, sir, for the first dose." 

The man was not in the leasi abashed by Horace's re- 
marks, but put up his guard scientifically as Horace ad- 
vanced upon him. 

Horace saw at a glance that the fellow had taken lessons 
in the noble art of self-defense, but he had not gone through 
the rough-and-tumble contests of Princeton College, where 
only the best man could keep his feet in a boxing match. 

"One, two, three, down you go!' exclaimed Horace, deal- 
ing him a blow on hisuose that made the claret fly in every 
direction except upward, and sending him to grass. 



THE FLYING MAN. 



7 



*' Geutlemen," exclaimed the elderly sport, " that was well 
done. $1,000 to $100 on the young man." 

" Do you feel better now, sir?" Horace asked. 

'*Go to the devil!" growled the man, deliberately drawing 
his handkerchief, applying it to his battered nose, and start- 
ing back toward the hotel, followed by a roar of laughter 
^ irom the others 



CHAPTER V. 

MEETING FRIENDS. 

Horace smiled as the man walked aviay. 

** He is cured. I never knew the remedy to fail. He'll 
never call another summer tourist a * peddler fellow.' " 

'*0h, that was the provocation, was it?" exclaimed the 
elderly sport." 

*'That and nothing more," replied Horace, putting on his 
coat and preparing his knapsack. 

"Give me your hand, young man; I like to see a man 
take care of himself. You are going to Round Top House?" 

"Yes." 

"Here's my card. I shall be happy to make your ac- 
quaintance, sir." 

Horace took the card and read the name of Sylvester 
Earle, New York." 

'* And here is mine, sir," responded Horace, handing him 
one of hia cards. 

'* Horace Mellville, Greystone. Young man, your father and 
I were college :iiates at Princeton. We have not seen each 
other in many years." And Earle 2;rasped his hand with a 
warmth and heartiness that touched him. " Come up to 
the hotel and get acquainted with my family. By George, 
if vou hadn't licked Sadler, I might never have found you 
out." 

" Thank you, sir," said Horace. " I am very glad to meet 
you. I shall have to try to buy or borrow a hat from some- 
body about here." 

"Yes — yes, of course. We can get you a hat in place of 
the one you lost," and Mr. Earle introduced him to the other 
gentlemen who were with him, 

They all received him cordially, and escerted him to the 
hotel, where Sadler had reported that he had been aet upon 
by a ruffian of a peddler and beaien. 

When he entered the hotel with Mr. Earle and the others, 
the landlord was on the point of refusing him accommoda- 
tion, when Mr. Earle remarked: 

* " Mr. Mellville is the son of an old friend of mine, land- 
lord. Give him the best you have in the house." , 

"Certainly, sir," and tlie clerk turned the register to him 
to enter his name, and then assigned him a good room. 

While he was being shown up to his room, where he loathed 
and dressed his wound himself, Mr. Earle was relating to 
over fifty guests of the house, male and female, the story of 
his encounter with Sadler. 

"His father is a retired business man, with only two chil- 
dren and plenty of money," he said, turning towards the ladies. 
" He goes about over the mountains for the exercise, and 
because has all the time he wants. Lord, how nicely he laid 
Sadler out ?" 

A half hour later nearly a dozen new hats were sent up to 
Horace's room, out of which he made a selection. They 
came out of various trunks in the hotel, and had never been 
used. 

He selected one, paid for it, and put it on his head prepar- 
atory to going down-stairs. 
As he descended, he saw that he was the cynosure of all 
r eyes, as the story of the eagle snatching his cap and wound- 
L ing him excited a great deal of comment. « 

* The young ladies seemed greatly interested in him because 
Mr. Earle had reported him as single, and the son of a rich 
father. 

"Here, Mellvile, my boy," called out Earle, as he ap 
proached. " Come here. Let me make you acquainted with 
my daughter — Mr. Mellvile, Essie." 



Horace bowed with all the grace he possessed to a lovely 
young blue-eyed witch, who blushed and smiled by turns. 

In less than live minutes he was introduced to not less than 
a dozen young ladiesVhose parents were summering there. 

Essie Earle took possession of him by right of priority, 
and insisted on his telling her the story of the eagle and 
his cap. 

" Oh," he said, "he just snatched it and flew away with 
it, that's all." 
" And he hurt you?" 

" Yes— gave me an ugly scratch on the heavl." 
"What did you do?" 

"Why, I got mad, of course, and said some very hard 
things about the great American eagle," 

The girls all laughed, declaring him real witty. 

" Why do you walk over the mountains, Mr. Mellville?" 
one of them asked. 

"Because I enjoy it better than any other way, and be- 
cause it promotes my health. I would advise you to do the 
same thing." 

" Ah, dear me, I am too healthy no-»," the young lady 
cried, and they all had another laugh, during which Earle 
and several gentlemen joined them, making quite a lively 
party. 



CHAPTER VI. 

THE ROBBER TRAMPS. 

That night all the guests came in from a tramp, fishing 
and hunting in the vicinity, and filled the hotel quite up to 
its capacity. Tliere was music and dancing, in which 
Horace did not join, as be had on nothing but a business 
suit of clothes, not dreaming that he would stop at a sum- 
mer hotel when he left home. 

" I'll know what to do on iny next trip," he muttered to 
himself, "and will be prepared for a thing of this kind. 
Wouldn't I just like to go in there and trip the light fantastic 
with some of those girls. Blest if I don't believe they like a 
fellow who goes tramping about over the mountains with a 
knapsack on his back." 

He spent the evening very pleasanilj^ though, with a 
pnrty of gentlemen out on the broad piazza, in the moon-^ 
light, where tliey were frequently joined by numbers of ladies. 
But he retired early, for he was thinking of a plan to remedy 
his lack of several things which this, his first trip on the 
wing, had convinced him that he must have, , 

" TJiose eagles would have gotten away with me," he said 
to himself, in his room, " if it had not bee'n for that steel rod. 
If 1 had dropped the rod 1 would have been in a bad way, 
because I could not have folded up the thitig when on the 
ground. I must get up something that will give me all the 
advantage, and I am going to do it." 

Before his eyes closed in sleep "he had invented just what 
he wanted, and only waited to get back to his shop to put it 
into shape. 

When he came down to breakfast the next morning, he 
found that Sadler had paid his bill and left on the stage. 

But still Earle and a dozen others declared that the winged 
monster they saw the day before was not the result of dis- 
torted vision or imagination, but a real thing— a fact. 

Two passengers in the coach that morning, from another 
hotel five miles away, mentioned the excitement created by 
the sight of an immense bird flying through the air the day 
before. 

"It's body was like a human being's, as seen through a 
glass," said one of the new arrivals. 
"The deuce!" exclaimed Earle. 

" Yes, sir. I looked at it myself, and distinctly made out 
a human form with arms, legs and wings." 

"Oh, mercy!" exclaimed one of the ladies, with a shud- 
der of horror. "I am really afraid to go out of the house 
when such things are flying about. They say tiie monster 
alighted within half a mile of the hotel yesterday. Maybe 
that was what attacked you, Mr. Mellville ?" 



8 



THE FLYING MAN. 



" I am quite sure it was an eagle," said Horace, "as I 
have seen a great many of ihem." 

'* What can the other thing be, thei)?" 

*'Ah, that is the question. Who can answer it? I am 
going out for a tramp over the mountain to-day, and hope 
to see something of this wonderful bird." 

"Oh, Mr. Mellviile," cried Essie Earle, "let us girls go 
with you, please?" 

Yes, do let us go!" cried half a dozen in a chorus. 
Couldn't think of it," said he firmly. "You couldu't 
stand tlie fatigue, for I'm going right through the woods, 
over crags, precipices and everytliing else tliat comes in my 
way. I want to see nature in all her rugged wildness, and 
may not return until late to-night." 

"Oh, that's real mean," sighed pretty Sadie Wintlirop, 
who seemed particularly anxious to go with a party on a 
tramp along the mountain roads. 

" I will take you on a tramp in a few days," he said. 

" Well, now, don't forget that," said Sadie, " for we do 
want ever so much to go." 

"1 will not forget it," he replied, and went up to his room 
to put on his flying knapsack. 

He passed out of the hotel, and struck out up the road on 
the lookout for a stout hickory sprout which he wanted to 
cut for a club in. case he met any more eagles. 

He soon found one and was pleased with it, after which he 
sought a small clearing where he could ascend high enough 
to use the wings, when he wished lo dispense with the ele- 
vator and depend on the wings enlireiy. 

When ready he touched the spriwg that controlled the 
elevator and treadles, which shot out of the knapsack with 
quick snaps. " 

Placing his right foot on the treadle he worked it rapidly, 
and in a moment he arose gracefully in the air, high above 
the tree-tops. 

Touching the springs that controlled the great wings, 
they shot out and instantly obeyed the action of the other 
treadle worked by the left foot. 

This done he lowered the elevatoV and folded it in its place, 
depending on the wings, which, in the absence of any strong 
winds, was all he needed. He commenced making great 
circles in the air, rising higher and higher, till he was over 
a half mile above the earth. 

Then for over an hour he sailed around and around over 
the hotel, knowing that every eye there was fixed upon him. 
He took ofl" his hat and waved it at them, after which he ; 
went over towards the wild part of the mountain in search 
of eagles, first taking a good view so as not to loae the spot. 

In another hour he was out of sight of the Round Top 
House and over that part of the mountains not yet occupied 
by man. He soon encountered two eagles who showed 
fight. One he instantly killed, and the other made ofi", after 
getting a hard blow from the stout hickory club. 

Seeing no more eagles anywhere around, he concluded to 
return to the hotel and see what kind of a story they would 
tell about the monster bird. 

" But I'll alight about two miles further off this time," he 
said. " for fear some fool will take a notion to give me a 
load of squirrel-shot." 

Striking a straight course, he went with the speed of an 
eagle, the great wings outstretched and held perfectly still, 
which course, unless facing a breeze, lowers the birds as 
they go. 

He struck an open place, put up the elevator, folded his 
wings, and let himself down to the ground with great ease. 

A moment later lie appeared to be simply a man with a 
knapsack on his back. 

"Now for the road," he said, and. started in an easterly 
direction, knowing he wouldjbe sure to strike it that way. 

He did strike it sooner than he expected, and started along 
towards the hotel, using his club as a walking cane. 

When he had gone nearly a mile he was suddenly seized 
by five villainous-looking tramps, who rushed out' from a 
clump of bushes by the roadside, brandishing knives and 



pistols in very unpleasantly close proximity to his head and 
body. 

" What j'or got in yer pack, sonny?" demanded a grizzly- 
old tramp, whose blear eyes, bloated face and filthy cFothes 
denoted the roving vagabond with whom crime was a famil- 
iar thought. 

" Nothing of any value to anybody but me," he replied. 

"Ha, ha, hal" chuckled the old villain. " Maybe so and 
maybe not. Ef it's good fer yer ii's good for us— eh, 
pards?" 

"Yes— cheese it!" said another; "run 'im down in ther 
hollow 'way from the road." 

Two of the villains seized hini by his arms and ran him 
down the mountain-side below the road. 

He knew it would be useless to resist, as the wretches 
would shoot or knife him in a moment. 

Tiie sun was even now behind the mountain, throwing^ 
long shadows eastward over the great forest. 

When they had reached the bottom of the gorge two of 
the wretches commenced tugging at the knapsack, one of 
whom started to'cut the straps that bound it to his body. 

" You are going to rob me," he said, coolly. " I cannot 
resist. It wouni be useless to do so. I have here in this 
knapsack that -which will make you all rich men. Let me 
take it ofi". You can have it. Only let me go. No need to 
murder me, as 1 wouldn't know you again." 

'"Stop that chinnin', an' take it ofl/' excitedly cried the 
grizzled, old tramp, who seemed to be the leader of the gang. 

" Yes— yes, of course," said Horace, looking up to see if 
the trees would interfere with his ascent. There was quite 
an open space overhead, and he stepped back three or four 
steps, touched the elevator spring, when down dropped the 
treadle and up shot the elevator to the amazement of the 
tramps. 

Quickly placing his right foot on the treadle, he set the 
elevator revolving. Its broad wings expanded, and in an- 
other moment he began to ascend. 

" Fury!" roared the old tramp, " he's goin' up," and made 
a dart forward to catch him by the foot. 

Horace gav-e him a kick in the mouth with his left foot 
that sent him back stunned and bleeding; but another, a 
lithe, active, young villain, sprang forward and caught him 
around the ankle with both hands in a vise-like grip. 

Horace tried to shake him oft; but in vain. 

The man held on. 

To descend now would be in the jaws of death. 

He worked the treadle witii redoubled energy. 

Would the elevator lift their combined weight? 

Slowly it arose, then, as if receiving new power, shot up- 
ward, and in a second was above the tree-tops. 

"Oh, Grod, save me!" screamed the villain, clinging to 
Horace's foot as his only chance for life. 



CHAPTER VII. 

THE tramp's terror. 

The weight of the man was a terrible strain on Horace's 
leg. It pained him almost beyond endurance, but he could 
not shake him off". 

The wretch, knowing that to let go would be death, held 
on with a death grip. f 

Horace had left his club on the ground. His knife he still 
had, but could not use it, as he could not get at him with it. 

He glanced down at the terrified wretch and beheld the 
mof?t appalling countenance he had ever looked upon in all 
ills life. * 

The ignorant tramp scarcely knew what he had hold of— 
only knew that to let go was to die, so he had no other re- 
course but to hold on. 

He looked pleadingly up at Horace, gasping: 

"Mercy— mercy!" » ^ &> 

"No -no!" replied Horace, "you would have shown me 
none ! I am sorry for you, but you would not have me de- 
scend with you to be murdered?" 



THE FLYING MAN. 



9 



"Mercy — mercj^!" gasped the wretch, still weaker. 

Horace suddenly gave his foot a twist and jerk, and with a 
despairing yell the tramp shot downwards like a stone. 

"God, but this is horrible!" exclaimed Horace, "but it 
^ was eitlier him or me. If I could liave carried him to the 
hotel I would have done so, and had him arrested, but I 
could not, for I couldn't work the wings with him hanging 
on to my foot." 

Touching the other spring, the great wings expanded, and 
with his foot in the treadle, he turned his course towards the 
road again nearer to the hotel, where he alighted and has- 
tenec^ forward on foot. 

When he reached the hotel he found the guests greatly ex- 
cited over the great event of the day. 

They had all seen the unknown thing flying high up in 
the air. 

" Oh, Mr. Mellville!" cried Essie Earlein maidenly excite- 
ment. "I saw it through a glass, and it was a man! A 
man flying a mile up in the air!" 

Horace smiled. 
Maybe you girls can see a man further than a man him 
self can," he suggested. 

" Oh, you horrid thing!" exclaimed Sadie Winthrop, strik- 
ing him with her fan. " All the gentlemen said it was a 
man, too." 

'Then it must have been a man," said Horace gravely, 
^'though I never thought one of the sterner sex could be 
such a high-flyer." 

Half a dozen fans struck htm at once. 

" You think we do all the high-flying, do you?** Essie 
asked. 

" Well, haven't you ladies monopolized that art hereto- 
fore?" 

" Worse and worse," said Sadie. *' Send for somebody to 
shoot him. But really, Mr. Mellville, what do you think of 
it? What can it be?" ^ 

" Why, you just now said it was a man," he remarked, 
with most provoking coolness. 

"Weil, it was a man," she retorted, with a decided em- 
phasis. 

" Then I can account for it in only one of two ways. He 
must be either an angel, or else a man floating about in 
space, blown up by one." 

The girls looked at one another a moment, and then at 
liira, as though uncertain as to his meaning. 
« Suddenly Essie Earle cried out: 

"Girls, he's making fun of us! He says it's a man some 
girl lias blown up!" 

" Oh, the horrid wretch!" exclaimed a dozen at once. 

"Now look here, young ladies," said Horace, laughing, 
" you are unjust to me. You declare it was a man?" 

"Yea, and he actually waved his hat at us!" said Mr. 
Earle, entering tlie parlor at the moment. 

"Oh, fudge!" exclaime:! Horace, incredulously. "I think 
we'd better hold some temperance meetings here and circu- 
late the pledge. It might improve the eyesight, if nothing 
elsj." 

This only brought down more indignation on his devoted 
head. 

" We all saw him do it," cried a dozen at once. 

" That settles it. I believe you. Did anybody ever eat 
a slice of the moon? I've heaid it was a green cheese." 

"Look here, young man," said Mr. Earle, "you are the 
obstinate juror tnis time— one against eleven; it's no use." 
r "Then let's set a trap and catch him. That'll settle it," 
► ' he suggested. 

" How? What kind of a trap?" 

" Oh, some kind of a trap that will catch him alive." 

"But he'd have better sense than to be caught in a trap," 
suggested Mr. Earle, 

" Not if you put one of these giris on the trigger as a bait," 
replied Horace. 

A chorus of exclamations burst forth, and the young sum- 
mer belles ngain belabored him with their fans.j 



Thus two or three hours passed, and the flying man was 
the all absorbing theme of conversatiou with everybody. 

The cooks in the kitchen sent word to the proprietor that 
four tramps were at the door telling a wonderful story about 
the flying man having taken up one of their number and 
flown away with him. 

Of course, that created more excitement. 

The landlord ordered the cook to give them a supper, and 
send them into the ball-room, where all the guests could 
hear their stor.v. 

Now was their grand opportunity. They felt their im- 
portance, and demanded the best the house afi'orded, and 
got it. 

In the parlor, a half an hour later, the four tramps, 
scarcely over the great fright they had received, stood up 
and told their story. 

"We was jest a walkin' along the road," said the old 
grizzled villain, " when all of a suddint we heerd a rushin' 
noise over us, an' ther next thing we knowed a flyin* 
man, with wings as big as a ship's sails, swooped down an' 
picked up poor Jim, jist like a hawk takes up chickens, an' 
flewed away with him, an' we ain't seed him no more." 

Just at this time Horace, who had been standing just 
outside the door and heard all that W'as said, entered the 
room and walked up towards the tramp, looking the old 
grizzled villain full in the face. 

They all saw him about the same tihne, and turned pale as 
death. 

He approached nearer and nearer, and the evident terror 
of the wretches was apparent- to the whole of the crowd, 
many of whom turned to see what had occasioned it, when 
the old rascal who had been telling the story, gave a yell 
of dismay, wheeled to the right and plunged through *the 
window, wliich fortunately for the landlord was raised. 

The other three followed in a trice, yelling like men 
frightened utterly out of their senses. 



CHAPTER YIII. 

THE RETURN, HOME. 

The sudden and unexpected retreat of the terror-stricken 
\ramps created profound astonishment among the guests of 
the house, and directed such attention to Horace as to force 
him to explain. 

" Af I came along the road this afternoon, at a point some 
two miles from here," he said, "those fellows rushed out 
from a thicket and tried to rob me. I managed ^to get away 
from them with the loss of only a stick, which I had cut in 
the woods. When they saw me enter this room, they thought, 
I suppose, that I came in to denounce them and cause their 
arrest—which I did intend to do— and they thought it best 
to get away." 

" Why didn't you mention it before?" a gentleman asked. 

"Because I never blow about such things, for the reason 
that every one does not believe them." 

" Sensible," retnarked Earle. " i am sorry the rascals got 
away. 1 don't believe a word of their cock-and-bull story 
now." 

The entire house full of guests disbelieved the story of the 
tramps, and yet the idea that a man was flying about in the 
air over the Catskills revived the thousand and 'one old 
legends of the old Dutch settlers. 

The next day Horace and Sadie Winthrop were walking 
arm-in-arm on the lawn in front of the hotel. He was tell- 
ing her about his sister Laura and her boyish ways, at which 
she laughed heartily, and said: 

"How I wish I could see her; I know I would love her, 
for we are such opposites." 

"Just what I thought, and, therefore, would like to have 
you know her. I will try to persuade her to come up here 
this next week to stay awhile, so you can get acquainted 
with her." 

"You will come, too, will you not?" she timidiy asked. 
"Yes, of course." 



10 



,THE FLYING MAN. 



She seemed happier after that, and chatted livelier tlian 
ever. 

"Oh, you sly ones!" cried Essie Earle. ** OS all to your- 
selves talking soft nonsense, are you?" 

Sudie blushed crimson, but Horace came to her rescue: 

" Yes, I was tellino^ her about my sister Laura, who will 
be here next week if I can persuade lier to come. She is 
just the girl to make you behave yourself." 

** She is, eh?" retorted Essie. ***Well, no woman ever ruled 
another yet, though she may rule an empire. I would like to 
see her. If she is as ugly and impudent as her brother she 
must be horrid." 

"There, now!" exclaimed Horace, with mock gravity, 
"see what a temper you havel You ought to marry the 
flying man, and " 

"Stop, or I'll have you arrested as a common nuisance. 
Will you go fishing with our party this afternoon?" 

" Indeed, I cannot. lam going to start for New York 
this morning," 

" What! Going away?" 

"Yes — wiihin an hour." 

" Well, tliat's mean of you, I must say, and young meo so 
scarce, too." 

" It's the hardest thing I ever did to tear myself away 
from such lovely companionship, but I want to bring my sis- 
ter here. If she were only here, my happiness would be com- 
plete." 

" Then bring her by all means." 

"I will. 1 have promised never to marry except it be to 
the woman of her choice." 

"Ah — ah!" from both the girls. 

Horace laughed and seemed to enjoy the sensation he had 
created. 

An hour later he paid his bill and left the hotel, going 
down the road in the direction of the railroad, which was 
several miles away. 

He soon found a spot where he could make an ascent, and 
with a stout stick which he had cut in the woods, he ascend- 
ed 10 a high point, spread his wings, lowered the eleva- 
tor, and seated himself in the skeleton chair ready for a good 
sail. 

The air was balmy and clear. He could see a great way 
off, and many villages were seen which he had not noticed 
before. 

" This is glorious," he said. *' It makes a man master of 
space almost. I pay no railroad fare, but run my own road. 
I'd like to take a trip out West, or down South. The In- 
dians and negroes would think the world was coming to an 
end. By the way, this thing can carry more weight than I 
had any idea of. It just lifted that rascally tramp right up 
over the tree-tops yesterday. If the wings and elevator 
were both used at once, it would carry three or four times 
my.weight." 

When he passed over a village he would make several wide 
circles liice an eagle, in order to give the villagers a good 
chance of enjoying the sensation. 

At last he approaches Greystone, and resolves to make a 
quick descent and get into his shop before any one on the 
premises knew anything about it. 

This was not difficult to do, as instead of the circlels he 
made a straight shoot, striking the lawn about half way be- 
tween the river and the house. 

Hurrying into the shop—the key cf which he had in his 
pocket — he deposited the pack, and then ran into the house 
to see his mother. 

He burst into the house and took them all by surprise. 

"Brother — brother !" cried Laura, springing into his arms 
and kissing him all over the face, "I am so glad you have 
come. I knew you would come home safe." 

Mrs. Mellville took him to her heart and wept tears of joy. 

" I thought I would never see ycu again, my son," she 
sobbed. 

"My mother, I have been safer than if I had been on a 
railroad car," he said, as he grasped his father's hand. " My 



machine is absolutely safe. Every piece is duplicated, so 
that if one breaks the other will hold.*^ 

" Bnt if they both break?" he aske(l. What then?" 

" Not half as much danger as a train of cars on a bridge," 
he replied cheerily. 

" Where have you been?" 

";All over the Catskills— stayed two nights at the Round 
Top House. I want you to go there with me, Laura. Such 
jolly times they are having there." 

" But I'd rather go by boat or rail," said Laura. 

"Of course. You don't suppose I'd fly away with such a 
big girl as you, do you?" and they all laughed heartily. 

The next morning Horace went to work in his shop, and 
made a quiver in whicli to carry a number of things he had 
found need of, such as a light double-barreled shot-gun, 
several rods, twine, an opera, or spy-glass, and a ball of 
strong silk cord, almost as large as ordinary twine. 

Going down to the city a day or two later, he bouglit him 
a silver-mounted seven shooter, which he could carry in liis 
pocket. He then hunted up Tom, and related to him the fuu 
his trip had aflbrded him. 

"Go up to the Round Top House, Tom," he said. 
" There's lots of girls and no end of fun up there. Laura is 
going up next week." 

That decided Tom. 

If Laura Mellville would be th6re, he would go. 
He agreed to go on the following Monday, and Horace 
went on his way to Greystone. 



CHAPTER IX. 

THE LAST DAY — A NEW TRIAL. 

When everything was in readiness Horace put his machine 
in a case he had prepared for it, and took the train with it and 
Laura for Catskill, where they took the stage on the other 
side of the river for the Round Top House, which place they 
reached just before sunset. 

Of course they were welcomed by nearly all the guests, par- 
ticularly by Essie Earle and Sadie Winthrop. 

Laura was as pronounced in her style of beauty as in 
mental character, and ere she had been twenty-four hours 
in the hotel several marriageable young men were paying 
court to her, to the consternation of both Essie and Sadie, 
who, heretofore, had divided the conquests between them. 

" Have you seen anything of the Flying Man since I left. 
Miss Winthrop?'**Horace asked. 

"No, and I begin to suspect you of being the demon of it 
all." 

"Me! Me fly!" he exclaimed, in well feigned astonishment, 
I only wish I could." 
" What would you do?" 

" I'd fly away with a little blonde I know of," was the re* 
ply, at which Laura laughed and Sadie blushed. 

Late on Monday Tom arrived, and the two old chums were 
again together. But Horace soon saw that Tom was more 
interested in Laura than in the flying machine, and gave 
him up to Laura's tender mercies at once, being himself 
divided between his invention and Essie and Sadie, with the 
chances decidedly in Sadie's favor. 

Two days later Horace concluded to have a sail over and 
beyond the mountains, among the farmers and stock raisers. 
So, going to the nearest village, he bought at a tinware store 
a large tin horn six feet in length, a blast from which could 
be heard for several miles. 

With this he started out, first making up his mind to go 
over a certain camp meeting not many miles away .from the 
village. 

Rising on the wing he seated himself in his place, and 
swept the earth with his spy-glass for the camp-meeting. 
At last he found it. 

It was in a lovely grove, and he could hear the melody of 
a thousand voices singing: " Rescue the perishing," rise in 
the air. 

Around and around he circled over the camp ground, 
blowing tremendous blasts on his tin trumpet. 



THE FLYING MAN. 



n 



The whole carnp-meeLinff broke up in terror, people run- 
Ding hither and thilher, some failing on their ls:nees and pray- 
ing as they never prayed before. 

It seemed that the minister liad just been preachinoj about 
tiie Angel of the Lord flying through the air, blowing on 
his trumpet, warning the nations of the earth that the end of 
ttie world had come. 

The first blast of the trumpet caused many to loote up. 

The minister himself looked up and turned pale. 

Another long blast and the preacher cried out: 
• *' This is the last day! Behold the Ano-ei of the Lord!" 
and then fell upon his knee? in terror-stricken fear. 

Toot— toot— too-o-o—oot— toot!" went the trumpet, and 
away went Horace, tooting as long as he thought those at 
the camp ground could hear it, and soon he was out of sight, 
going over into the more fertile regions, where the farmers 
could experience a little of the fear he had inspired at the 
camp-meeting. 

As he would pass over a village every house would be 
emptied of its occupants, and the blasts of the tin trumpet 
set them all to wondering what it meant. 

'*If I only had on a long white robe and long yellow hair," 
he said, "I'd scare some of those people down there out of 
a year's growth. Nothing could make 'em doubt that Gabriel 
haci come tooting his horn." 

.Still he dared not fly low; lest some irreverent hunter 
should shoot at him. 

Suddenly he heard a rumbling of distant thunder, and on 
looking toward the southwest "saw a very threatening black 
cloud rolling up, with liow and then forked tongues pf light- 
ning darting out of it. 

*' A summer thunder shov;er," said he to himself. *'It 
won't hurt if the wind doesn't blow hard." 
^More thunder and lightning, with louder crashes and fiercer 
- flashes. 

"Halloo!" he suddenly exclaimed. "Oh, Jerusalem! why 
didn't I think of that before? These steel rods will attract 
lightning enough to consume the whole thing in just two 
seconds! What a fool 1 am not lo think of that before! 
Close up, wings — up, elevator! Down we go into some- 
body's cornfield. Blessed fine inventor I am to go sail- 
ing in the teeth of a summer thunder cloud chuck full 
of electricity, with steel rods all around me! Oh, what an 
ass!" 

In a few minutes he was settling down into a cornfield 
whence came the fierce barking of a dog, and a moment 
later he saw a terrified farmer flying towards the farm house 
as fast as his heels could carry him. 

*' Very good, old fellow, only don't come creeping around 
with your old shot gun." 

Folding up everything into the pack on his back he started 
towards the house, to see what effect his presence had pro- 
duced on the old farmer. 

He had not gone far before he heard the words: 

" Halt thar!" followed by the ominous clicking of a gun. 

"Well, I'm halted," he said. 

" Who be yer?" 

" Horace Mellville, of New York." 
"Kin yer fly?" 

" Yes— but not in the face of a thunder storm," he replied. 

Horace couldr^see no one, but he knew enough to stand 
still and await developments. 

Suddenly he saw a farmer rise up from behind a stump, 
level a gun at him, and say: 

" Fly, or I blow yer head off!" 

"All right— let me get my wings out," and turning the 
quiver containing his double barreled gun around so as to 
conceal it from view, he got the gun out, and wheeled 
around with: 

" Now fly, or you are a dead man!" 



CHAPTER X. 

AN ASTONISHED COUNTRYMAN. 

On finding himself staring into the muzzle of a double- 



barreled shot-gun the old farmer became utterly demoral- 
ized. 

Hia courage all oozed out. 

His eyes distended and his hair stood up on an end. 

"D — d — don't shoot!" he stammered. 

" Drop that gun!" sternly ordered Horace. 

Down went the gun. ^v. . 

It exploded, the entire charge passing between Morace's 
legs, but not touching him. 

But it raised him about three feet — about as high as he 
could leap. 

"The devil, man!" he exclaimed, "did you shoot at me?"' 
"N— n— no! I — I didn't— go tu du it!" stammered the ter- 
rified farmer, his bronzed face ashen hued. 

" Why, you came near shooting my legs off'!" said Horace, 
still leveling his gun at him. "I've a mind to blow your 
head off"." 

" D—d— don't do it, m—m— mister. Don't!'' 
" What the deuce did you draw the gun on me for, any- 
how?'^ 

"I— I didn't know who vou was," he replied, " an' — an' — 
I was so scairt, mister." 

"Couldn't you seel was nothing but a man?" Horace 
asked. 

" Waal, I kin now," said the farmer, regaining a little self- 
possession, " but when a man flies inter my cornfield like a 
crow I kinder thought it war time tu git ther gun." 

" Why, I am only a man like yourself," said Horace smil- 
ing. " But because I had ingenuity enough to make me a 
flying-machine, so I could fly about and see the country, 
you want to shoot me. 1 had to come down here in your 
cornfleld because I didn't like to get mixed up with the light- 
ning of that thunder cloud up there." 

"Goodness gracious!" exclaimed the amazed farmer. 
" Mister, is that so?" 

" Every word of it, sir!" 

" Waal, I swanny! Cum right up tu ther house, mister. 
Marier will be glad tu see yer, an' so'll Jane Matilda." 

" Thank you," said Horace, advancing and grasping the 
farmer's hand. "Be careful how you shoot at big birds on 
the wing hereafter, for people will soon be flying about as 
thick as flies." 

" Yu don't say so." 

" Yes, I do. This is a wonderful age we live in, you 
know," and as the big rain-drops began to patter down, 
Horace turned his face toward the house. 

The farmer led the way, and in a few minutes they were 
under the roof of a substantial farm-house, upon which now 
poured a deluge of rain. 

The farmer's wife and two daughters came forward and 
stared at him, thinking he was a peddler, and naturally ex- 
pected to see him display some pretty and tempting wares 
from his pack, while waiting for the rain to cease. 

"Marier!" exclaimed the farmer, as his wife and 
daughters came forward, "this 'ere man kin fly like a bird." 

" What's that, Josiah?" 

"I say this 'ere man kin fly." 

" Josiah Jenkins, be yu crazy?" 

" Let me explain, madame," said Horace; " I simply have 
a flying machine with which I fly wherever I wish to go. 
Your husband saw me in his field." I desired to escape the 
storm, and am under many obligations to him for the privi- 
lege of resting under his roof." 

The amazement of the mother and her two daughters was 
simply unbounded. 

They stared at Horace and his pack as though they con- 
sidered him something supernatural. . 

But when Horace unbuckled the straps and let the pack 
fall to the floor, leaving him standing there in all the pride 
of conscious manhood, the elder of the two daughters smiled, 
and said : 

" Well, I must say you are the first man I ever heard of 
who could fly." 
Horace laughed good naturedly and said : 



12 



THE FLYING MAN. 



"You don't read your Bible often, then, I fear." 

"Yes, I do," said slie, quickly. "I have read the Bible 
through three times." 

" Well, every angel you read of then was a flying man." 

"Whatl" exclaimed all three at once. "All the angels 
men?" 

" Yes. Have you ever found anything in either the old or 
new Testament where an angel was mentioned as * she?' If 
you have, and can show it to me, I will put up a silk dress 
for each of you." 

The mother and daughters looked at each other as if as- 
tonished. 

"Waal," retorted the old lady, "you've got impudence, 
anyhow." 

"Isappose you don't believe women go to heaven, any- 
way, do you !" queried the daughter. 

" Oil, yes, I do. They nearly all go there, for they are an- 
gels on earth, full of virtue and goodness. But when the 
Lord wants to send out an angel to do anything, he sends a 
man angel. They don't make the women work in heaven." 

This explanation at once restored him at once to their good 
graces, and they proceeded to entertain him in the best way 
they knew how. 

In a couple of hours the thunder storm had passed over, 
leaving the air cooler and more refreshing than before it 
came. 

Thanking them for their kindness, he buckled on the paek, 
and went out into the yard, whither the entire party fal- 
lowed. 

Touching the elevator spring, that indispensable part of the 
machinery shot up some ten feet above his head, and spread 
out as it revolved, going faster and faster as he worked the 
treadle with his right foot. 

" Look — look, mal" cried one of the daughters, as Horace 
began to ascend. " He is going up!" 

Horace kissed his hand to the excited young maiden as he 
went up. 

" Waal, I never!" gasped the old ladj', gazing after him as 
he ascended above the highest tops of the highest trees on 
the place. 

** 1 swar tu gracious!" ejaculated tlie old farmer. " I never 
expected tu see a man fly!" 

When up a good distance, Horace spread his winds, low- 
ered the elevator to its place on his back, and sailed away 
with an ease and grace that charmed as well as astonished 
the farmer's family. 

He was scarcely out of sight of the farmer's house when he 
saw a collection of white cottages among the trees some lit- 
tle distance on his right. 

At a considerable height above the village he saw an im- 
mense kite floating, and on looking through his glass, saw 
that a number of young men and their village sweethearts 
were flying it. 

"I'll have some fun with that kite," said Horace, maidng 
straight for it. 

The young people very soon caught sight of him, the 
magnitude of his wings of course creating a sensation. 

There was not, perhaps, in the whole village a single spy 
or opera glass, hence they had to depend on the eyesight to 
make him out. 

He sailed majestically up to the kite, detached it from the 
string, blew a long, loud, triumphant blast on bis tin tram- 
pet, and then sailed away with the prize. 

"Ha — ha — ha!" he laughed. "Just look at 'em down 
there! The whole village is in an uproar. See how they 
pour out of the houses! They will never forget that day as 
long as they live. Every little country paper in this part of 
the state will have whole columns about it for months." 

When nearly a dozen miles from the village he let the kite 
go, and it made its way earthward in a zigzag course. 
Horace then increased his speed to a tremendous rate in or- 
der to see how far he could go before sunset. 

By keeping up the speed at his best he saw by noticing 
Objects below that he was making good time. In a couple 



of hours lie noticed many lights below, and* objects became 
quiie indistinct. 

" It's time for me to land somewhere," he said, " find out 
where I am, get something to eat and a little rest." 

He soon found an open place and gradually settled down 
to his natural sphere. 



CHAPTER XL 

ARRESTED FOR MURDER— THE ESCAPE. 

The place where he alighted was on the outskirts of a 
small village, though no one had seen him descend. 

He appeared at the nearest house and asked if there was 
a hotel in the place. 

''Yes," said the man, " the tavern is right down the street 
there," and then the man looked hard at him. "Be you a 
peddler?" he asked. 

"No; I am only a traveler." 

" Which way did you come?" 

"From New York." 

" Then you came right by the tavern." 

•'Didn't see it if I did. Much obliged to you, sir," and 
turning away, Horace trudged along down the street tiir he 
came to the little tavern, which he entered without cere- 
mony and asked for quarters for the night. He was given a 
good room, and he retired at once, after taking supper, as 
he desired to think over a plan to render his steel rods harm- 
less in the vicinity of lightning. 

He lay awake nearly the entire night thinking, not falling 
asleep until long after midnight. How long he slept he 
cared not, as time was his own, and at quite a late hour in 
the morning he rang for a servant to bring his breakfast to 
his room. 

As soon as he finished the meal he buckled on his pack 
in order that he might go out and rise on the wing in front 
of the hotel. 

But when he descended with the pack on his back h3 was 
astonished at seeing an unusual number of people about the 
place. 

A constable stepped up, and laying a heavy hand on his 
shoulder, said: 

" You are my prisoner, sir." 
" What for?" demanded Horace. 
" For n urder." 
"Murder!" 

"Yes— the murder of Jim Osgood last night, or late yes- 
terday evening," replied the constable, tightening his grip 
on his shoulder. 

"That is a very serious charge, constable," said Horace. 
" Who makes it?" 

"Here's my warrant, filled out with your name as you 
wrote it on the register last night. I hope you are innocent, 
but it's my duty to arrest and lodge you in the county jail." 

"But see here," said Horace, seeing the situation growing 
desperate. "Do you know of any man in this part of the 
country who ever saw me here before?" 

" That has nothing to do with the case. The court is the 
place to try your case." 

" But who'll pay damages to me for this outrage?" 

"Bring him along, constable," shouted a voice in the 
crowd. 

"He's the chap!" cried another. 

" Hang him!" yelled a third, and in a few minutes neariy 
two hundred angry villagers were gatherinsr around him, 
clamoring loudly for vengeance on him as^ the supposed 
murderer of Jim Osgood, an inoff'ensive farmer, only a mile 
or two beyond the village, on the niglit before. 

" Come along, sir!" said the constable, and Horace went 
along unresistingly, followed by the entire crowd as an escort. 

When out in the middle of the street Horace touched the 
eleyator spring and the elevator shot up out of the pack with 
a snap that made the constable start. 

"Hallo!" exclaimed Horace, in well-feigned surprise and 
alarm, " something is broke loose. Just wait a moment till 



THE FLYING MAN. 



13 



I can get this pack off, or we'll all be blown to the devil ia 
just two minutes !*• 

"Lord save us I" gasped an old man who had been very 
officious in assisting the constable with his advice, making a 
sudden dash for safety. The constable stepped back in 
alarm, and the crowd kept at a safe distance. 

In the meanwhile, Horace put his right foot on the treadle 
and set it going. The elevator expanded its sailp, and ihe 
next moment he was going up like a rocket. 

Oh, Lord!" exclaimed the dumfounded constable, as he 
gazed up at him, " he's going up!" and the exclamations of 
wonder and consternation beat anything Horace had ever 
heard. 

" I say, constable!" he called out to him, "have the jail 
ready for me by the time I return!" 

Spreading out liis great wings and taking down the eleva- 
tor, he sailed around and aroand in circles like an eagle. 

The constable drew his revolver and lired two shots at 
him. 

"Two can play at that game, my fine fellow," said Hor- 
ace, taking out his shot-gun and peppering the constable 
with bird shot, which sent hi n yelhng into a house. 

Never in the history of that county was such excitement 
seen as then followed. The people ran into their houses and 
took down all the old rifles that had been hanging up for 
years, determined to tight for " The green graves of their 
sires," to the bitier end. 

" This won't do," muttered Horace. " I must get out of 
range before a bullet hits me," and working the great wings 
for the purpose he soon rose out of reach of the enraged vil- 
lagers. 

" Oh, no— not if I know it," said Horace. "I don't sleep 
in any jails. I am not a jail- bird, but another kind of a bird. 
I don't know anything about a murder last night. Mever 
hurt anybody unless somebody got frightened. Good-bye, 
constable. You haive seen the show for nothing," and with 
that he blew several loud blasts on his tin trumpet and then 
sailed away in the direction of the Catskills again. 

It was a long distance, but he put Ids invention to its full 
strength and speed, and during the afternoon came in sight 
of the Round Top House. 

Of course he alighted, as usual, some distance from the 
hotel, knowing that Tom and Laura would keep his secret 
as they had promised. 

On his way to the hotel, trudging along the road with his 
pack, he was surprised to meet Sadler and two ill-favored 
looking men, 

"Ah! we meet again, sir," said Sadler, boldly, placing 
himself in his way. 

"Yes, I often meet fellows of your stripe," retorted Hor- 
ace. 

"So you do, and sometimes you get punished for your 
impudence." 

No sooner had the word " impudence'^ escaped him than 
Horace planted a blow between his eyes that landed him on 
his back. 

The other two at once charged on him, but Horace drew 
his revolver and clmckled : 

"Ha, ha, ha! you want to be punished, too, eh?" 

They recoiled from before the muzzle of his weapon. 

" Get away now," he said, " and as fust as you can. This 
is an unhealthy place for you." 

They went away, getting out of reach of hia revolver, when 
they stopped to watch liis proceedings. 



CHAPTER Xn. 

PUNrSHING AN ENEMY. 

Sadler scrambled to his feet in time to see himself de- 
serted by the men he had basely hired to help him to get 
even with Horace. 

"You stand still there, sir," ordered Horace, "or I'll put 
a bullet into you! Did you hire those men to attack me?" 

"No." 



"Yes, you did. What were you doing with that coil of 
rope there?" 

"I — I didn't have any rope," said he, turning pale as 
death. 

Horace saw the rope on the ground, but knew not which 
of the three men had dropped it. 

"Pick it up and tie it securely around your chest under 
the armpits." 

" What for?" 

"I am going to hang you on a corner of the new moon,'* 
was the reply. 
Sadler tried to smile. 
" Do as I tell you, sir," sternly. 

Sadler picked up the rope and tied it securely around his 
cliest. 

Horace took the other end and secured it to a broad strap 
that passed around ins own body, then he raised the elevator 
and commenced working the treadle. 

When he began to ascend Sadler seemed utterly dum- 
founded, and when he found himself going up he uttered a 
despairing shriek that sent terror into the hearts of the base 
wretches who had deserted him. 

" What are you going to do?" he pleaded and begged, as 
he went up higher and higher above the tree-tops. 

"I'm going to hang you on. a corner of the moon," replied 
Horace, " You are too pure and good to live on earth." 

"Mellville, I— I'll do anythmg you wish if you will only let 
me down," pleaded the terrified man. 

" What would you do?" 

"Anything," 

" What did you hire those men for?" 

" To help me get square with you." 

" Well, you are square now, are you?" 

" I am satisfied." 
, " So I suppose, but I am not. I will tell you what I am 
going to do. I will take you over that spur there and duck 
you in the lake. Can you swim?" 

" Yes." 

" AH right, then," and Horace adjusted the wings and 
sailed straight for the lake, which was about a mile from 
the Round Top House. 

He found two or three pleasure yachts sailing about on 
the little lake, full of gay pleasure seekers, many of them 
from the hotel where Laura and Tom were staying. 

Making several graceful circles in the air, he made a 
swoop that let Sadler strike the water with a splash, hang- 
ing some twenty feet below. 

Wild shrieks of alarm went up from each boat save one. 

That one contained Tom^ Laura and two other girls, Essie 
Earle and Sadie Winthrop. 

The cool self-possession of Tom and Laura kept their com- 
panions from becoming alarmed. 

When once ducked Horace arose in the air with his victim, 
made another swoop and splashed him again. 

But to his surprise he remained in the water. 

Sadler had cut the rope. 

He preferred to swim out to swinging in the air again. 
" Swim out!" Horace cried, as he felt himself relieved of 
his burden. 

Several boats at once put for his relief, but he reached the 
shore in safety, and made his escape into the woods without 
being found out by any one in the boats. 

" Halloo, Tom!" cried H,-^race, aa he recognized his old 
chum. 

"Halloo, yourself!'' replied Tom; and Essie Earle cried 
out : 

" Ab, it's Mr. Mellville!'' and was almost overcome with 
the discovery. 

"Yes," said Laura, turning to Sadie Winthrop; " it is 
my brother, with his flying maciune." 

" Oh, mercy, how he has been fooling us all the time!" 
exclaimed Sadie, in great excitement. 

Horace gave a tremendous blast on his little tin trumpet, 
sailing around and around over the little lake, but finally 



14 



THE FLYING MAK 



concluded to settle down on the shore and join Tom and 
Laura. 

"Ah! Mr. Mellville!" cried Essie Earle as she sprang ashore 
and greeted Mm, "you are an awful man for deceiving us 
so." 

Horace laughed. 

*'I only wanted to prove to you that a man could be an 
angel, you know," he said. 

" Well, you have not done so," she replied, "for angels 
never deceive." 

"They don't, eh? Did the woman ever live who didn't 
deceive either her parents or her husband— yet they are all 
angels." 

"I will forgive you," she said. "But I hope you won't 
fly away withlne." 

" Keep well chained to earth, then, for I can steal with 
impunity, since nobody can pursue me, you know." 

"Brother," exclaimed Laura, as she sprang out of the 
boat and ran into his arms, " I am so glad to see you. Where 
did you stay last night?" 

"About a hundred miles from here," he replied, returning 
ber sisterly caresses. 

"I was uneasy about you." 

"Well, you should not be. lean take care of myself. 
How has Tom behaved himself during my absence?" 

"Oh, he's been a good boy," laughed Laura, blushing 
slightly. 

"Yes, you think so, no doubt," remarked Essie. "He 
has done nothing but wait on you all the time, leaving us to 
admire his gallantry at a distance." 

" How's that, Tom?" Horace asked. 

" Tve tried, Horace, and can't wait on but one at a time. 
These darlings want about ten men each to talk love to 
them all " g 

" Throw him into the lake!" cried Sadie. " That's rank 
treason." 

"So it is," remarked Horace, drily. " Take him in and 
duck him, ladies." 

" I would if I had my bathing suit here," said Essie. " His 
impudence is only equaled by his want of gallantry." 

"Miss Sadie," said Horace, "would you like to fly over 
the lake with me?" ' 

"Mercy!" gasped the little maiden, " how could I?" 

"I will tie you to my side." 

" No— no— I— yes!" 

" That's a good girl," and Horace took the rope he had 
given Sadler such a swing with, and proceeded to lash the 
young lady to his side. 

When all was ready he arose up in the air, slowly but 
surely, and Sadie, losing heart, threw her arms about his 
neck and screamed. 

"Be quiet, dear," he said; "you are as safe as on the 
ground," and he clasped her around the waist and kissed 
her. 

"None of that!" cried Tom, from below. 

Horace spread his wings and sailed grandly around and 
around with har, his left arm clasping her slender waist and 
pressing her to his side. 

"Don't be alarmed, little one," he said, "for you are 
perfectly safe. Ah, if we could only fly through life this 
way!" 

"Look there!" she exclaimed; "what large birds are 
those?" 

Looking straight away on his right Horace saw three 
immense eagles flying towards him. 

" Eagles, ^by the Lord Harry!" exclaimed Harry, "and 
they mean fight!" 



CHAPTER XHL 

THE DOUBLE FLIGHT. 

Horace was in a dilemma. 

He had to defend himself and another, with the disadvan- 
tage of having that other individual lashed to his side. 



At first Sadie did not realize the danger, but when she saw 
the fierce looks and terrible talons of the " kings of the air," 
she almost fainted through fright. 

"Oh, Mr. Mellville!" she cried, tremblingl}^ "please de- 
scend— I don't want to go any further." 

"We cannot descend with safety now, as they would 
pounce upon our heads and tear our eyes out. Oh, don't be 
uneasy; 1 fought and whipped seven of them the other day, 
and can easily take care of these." 

With that Horace drew his revolver, and keeping his left 
arm around Sadie's waist, watched the eagles as they circled 
around them. 

Soon one of them made a swoop at Sadie's hat, but Horace 
raided his weapon quickly and fired, and the eagle gave a 
wild, shrill scream and commenced falling. 

He was shot square through the body. . 

His companion then made a fierce attack, and Sadie 
screamed as loud as the two eagles. 

Bang — bang — bang! went the revolver in rapid succession. 

The third shot broke the eagle's wing, and he fell flutter- 
infi into the lake below, where Tom and Laura immediately 
took steps to capture hiin. 

The first one shot was dead by the time he reached the 
wa' er. 

"You see," said Horace, turning to Sadie, " we are the 
two best eagles on the wing." 

"Yes — you are I am no eagle, I can't fl3', you know," 
was her timid replj^ 

"Oh, I'll make a pair of wings for youj" said he, laugh- 
ing. 

"Oh, that would be grand! If I could fly like thi? I 
would fly away to Heaven." 
" I don't think you would." 
"Why not?" 

" Because I would fly after you, and- bring you back." 
Sadie flushed scarlet, but there was a happy light it hei 
eyes. 

"You are not frightened, now?" he asked, as they arose 
higher. 
" No— not with you." 

" Thanks. With you tied thus to my side I could fly 
around the world." 

" Oh, you have got me up here now, where you can say 
anything, and I can't help myself." 

"Then I'll have a kiss, if you are so utterly helpless," and 
he placed a hand under her chin, raised her blushing face, 
and imprinted a kiss on her pouting lips. 

" I can't help myself," she said, laughing. 

" And I'm glad you can't. If I had a nest on some moun- 
tain peak where man could never reach us, I would carry 
you there." 

"Then lam glad you haven't," she retorted, "fori 
don't want a nest on a mountain top. I prefer a more cozy 
little cottage in some valley, where the rippling waters and 
the birds make music all the day long." 

" What a lovely, romantic picture! Of course you would 
want a mate in such a bower of bliss!" 

"Oh, yes, of course. But 1 would want a husband who 
wouldn't fly away and leave me to pine alone." 

" You would want a husband that conld fly, then, would 
you?" 

" I think it would be best to have one who couldn't fly, 
for then he could not fly away and leave me," she replied. 

"Oh, you are a sly little philosopher, Sadie Winthrop," 
and Horace could not refrain from snatching another kiss , 
from her cherry lips. 

Then taking the tin trumpet, he woke up the echoes far 
and wide with long sonorous blasts upon it. 

He even taught her how to use it, saying: 

"You must learn to be my bugler." 

After over an hour on the wing, they descended, alighting 
near the spot from which they ascended. 

" Oh, Sadie!" crhd Essie Earle, running to her and catch- 
ing her in her arms, "were you not frightened?" 



THE FLYING MAN. . 15 



**Yes, at first. But oh, Essie, it was heavenly!" 
" Would you like to go up with me, Miss Earle?" Horace 
asked. 

"No, indeed!" 

"See here, Horace," said Tom; "that's a sly way you 
have of taking a girl up in the air, where you can talk love 
to her witliout fear of interruption." ^ 

Sadie blushed crimson. 

" Look out, there, Laura!" cried Horace, turning towards 
his sister, who was teasing the eagle with the broken wmg. 
*• If he gets hold of you you will yell worse than a pig under 
the gate." 

"Sadie," whispered Essie to her companion, "did he talk 
love to you?" 

" No," whispered Satlie; "he talked foolish, just like other 
young men." 

" Just what I thought. What did he say?" ■ 

" Oh, it was all on the fly, and 1 don't remember." 

Essie fairly screamed with laughter, to the infinite surprise 
of Sadie. 

" I hope it was funny," remarked Laura, as they all turned 
and looked at Essie. 

" What was it?" Tom asked. 

"Sky secrets," replied Essie, amid a general laugh. 

" How are we going to get this eagle up to the hotel?" 
Tom asked, as he turned to tlie bird, who fiercely resented 
any attempt to approach him. 

"I'll carry him up for a dollar," said one of the boatmen 
in charge of the little sail-boats. 

"That's a l argaiu," said Horace. "Bring him along,** 
and leaving Tom to take care of Laura and Essie, he ten- 
dered his arm to Sadie Wmthrop and led the way home- 
ward. 

But the boatman never dreamed of the tremendous con- 
tract lie had make with the Flyinsc Man, in agreeing to carry 
that wounded eagle up to tlie hotel. 

The bird had free use of his legs and beak, and the first 
attempt to take him resulted in a volley of "cuss" words 
that made the air blue around him, for the eagle shook 
hands with liim, putting up his national grip on him. 

" Let go, you tarnal bird of freedom!" yelled the boatman. 

He gave the eagle a kick with his raw-hide boots that 
nearly knocked the life out of him. 

" You blasted screamer!" growled the boatman, as he held 
up his torn and bleeding hand. "I've a mind to kick all the 
feathers off of you. If you belonged to me, I'd make fish 
bait out of you in less than no t.ime. Get up here!" and go- 
ing for. the'bird again, he found him as game as ever, ready 
to strike at every chance. 

linally he was forced to employ a fellow boatman to aid 
bim, and after incredible time and trouble, he landed him at 
the hotel. 

" Here he is, boss," said the boatman. " But it's the last 
'un I carry with his feathers on. Wliy, blame it, boss, that 
'ere bird is worse than a wild steer or a mad dog. He's the 
old Nick himself." 

The man was paid double for his trouble, and the eagle 
became quite a sensation to the guests of the hotel. 

A favorite dog belonging to one of the visitors paid dearly 
for his curiosity, the eagle giving him a taste of his claws 
that sent him howling around the corner. 

CHAPTER XIV. 

LOVE ABOVE THE CLOUDS. 

Of course the news that Horace Mellville was the Flying 
Man created the most intense excitement among the guests 
of the hotel. 

Every one wanted to see the wonderful pack and examine 
its intricate machinery; but Horace declined to exhibit it, 
saying: 

"It is not patented, gentlemen, and therefore I do not 
propose to give it away. You can see me go up to-morrow 
in front of the hotel." 



Sadie Winthrop, young and timid as a fawn, was looked 
upon in the light of a daring heroine, in view of her ascen- 
sion with him, and the fight with the eagles, and she was the 
cynosure of all eyes, as well as the subject of a ceaseless flow 
of questions, until her eyes were closed in sleep. 

Pretty Sadie was in love with Horace, and would have 
braved death a thousand times with him. Her joy was in 
being with him — not as flying in the air— and hearing the 
words he uttered to her. 

" Oh, I hope he will take me up with him again!" she 
muttered to herself a hundred times ere her eyes closed in 
sleep that night. 

Early the next morning Horace was out on the lawn in 
front of the hotel, with his pack on his back, ready to fly up 
for the benefit of the assembled guests of the house. 

The ladies were in a flutter of excitement over the afl'air, 
and the men were no less interested. 

Sadie Winthrop was standing on the steps of the hotel. 

" Would you like to go up again. Miss Sadie?" he asked. 

She smiled, and said : 

" If you wish to have me go I will do so." 

" Come on, then." 

Slie wrapped a little shawl about her and joined him on the 
lawn, where he proceeded to secure her to himself, but in a 
manner somewhat different from that he used the day before, 
and she reminded him of it. 

" Yes, I know," he said, "but you will be more comforta- 
ble when we get up on the wing.'' 

She said no more, j but permitted him to tie her as he 
thought best. 

When everything was in readiness he touched the elevator 
spring, and the elevator shot up with a snap. The treadle 
set it going at a tremendous rate, and in a half minute or so 
they began to ascend. 

Sadie clung to him and he to her, both waving their un- 
engaged hands to the crowd below. 

Cheer upon cheer followed them, which were renewed when 
Horace spread out the great wings and sailed lazily around 
in great circles. 

"Now j'ou will see why I tied you differently from yester- 
day." he said to Sadie. "I wanted to make you more com- 
fortable," and with that he touched a spring, and the frame 
work adjusted itself into a regular skeleton arm-chair, with 
a silk netting seat. 

He seated himself in the chair and drew Sadie into his lap, 
while liis feet continued to work the treadles. 

" See how comfortable we are now," he said. " Yoa can 
hold on by placing your arm around my neck, and I can en- 
circle your waist, and— and kiss you!" 

" Behave yourself, sir. Well, well, what will they think 
below there? They are looking at us through their glasses." 

" Well, let 'era look. We can look down on 'em, you 
know." ' ^ 

Sadie smiled, blushed, and looked happy. 

" Sadie," said Hoiace, after a pause, " do you know why 
I wanted you to come with me to-day?" 

"No. Why?" 

"Because I wanted to get you up above the clouds and 
tell you someMiing. There is a beautiful cloud now out there. 
Shall we go to it?" " 

"Yes," she whispered, her face all aglow. 

He steered straight for the cloud, and in a few minutes all 
view of the world below was cut off'. 

They seemed to be floating in a sea of tiny rainbows, the 
reflection of the sun on the floating mists. 

" Oh, how lovely!" exclaimed Sadie. " How romantic." 

"Yes, indeed," said Horace, " but not half so lovely as 
you are in ray eyes. Hove you, Sadie Winthrop. T want 
you for my wife. If you refuse me that I will fly away with 
you anyhow." 

He drew her to him and kissed her. 

" Do you love me, darling?" 

"Yes, yes," she murmured. "Hove you, Horace Mell- 
ville. I will be your wife. Fly away with me if j*ou like. 



16 



THE FLYING MAN 



Anywhere in the world with 5''ou,'' and she threw her arms 
around his neck, Ivissing hiin a dozen times. 

*' My liappiness is complete," he said. "Sadie loves me. 
Above the clouds she kissed me. Darling— darling!" 

Just then they passed out of the cloud, and they caught a 
glimpse of the earth a mile below spread out in a grand 
panorama such as no artist had ever protrayed on canvas. 

But it was some time before the happy lovers looked at the 
scene, so engrossed were they with each other. 

Sadie was the first to notice the scene, and asked: 

" Where are we going now?" 

Horace looked around a moment or two and said: 

"Hanged if I know. We are a long way ofl" from the 
Round Top House, tliough. I think we are now up on a 
strong current that is carrying us norihward." 

" Oh, mercy! Can we get out of it and get back again?" 

" Yes, we can go an where, darhug. Let's go up and see 
Albany?" 

" Can we get back before night?" 

"Yes." 

" Then go. Oil, won't we have something to tell when we 
get back!" 

In a couple of hours they came in sight of Albany, and 
steered straight over it, sailing around and around until they 
V7ere satisfied every man, woman and child in the city had 
seen them. 

" There lies Troy out there," said Horace, pointing out the 
places of interest to liis lovely companion. 

After sailing around for some time they turned and started 
back towards the Catskills. They were forced to get much 
nearer to the earth on returning, to avoid a certain current 
of air running northward. 

They flew steadily, and in three hours carhe in sight of their 
hotel. 

" There!" cried Sadie, "they are watcliing for us. S e! 
They are all out on the lawn." 

"Yes. They will have a thousand questions to ask you 
when we alight." 

" Oh, yes, and I'll have two thousand things to tell them." 

" Remember, darling, that you are my promised wife. I 
shall tell no one but Laura of it. She approves my choice. 
You can talk with her. 1 shall go away to-morow to be gone 
for some time. I am going to cross the continent to Califor- 
nia and return. Go home with Laura when she goes. She 
will ask you." 

She promised to do as he said, and a few minutes later 
they alighted in front of the hotel. 

' ' Where in the world did you go?" Tom asked. 

" To Albany," was the reply, us they entered the bouse. 



CHAPTER XV. 

" no ! FOR THE WEST." 

The next morning Horace paid his fiotel bill and took 
leave of his friends, saying he was going to San Francisco 
on the wing. 

Everything in readiness, he kissed Laura and Sadie, and 
rose up in the air. 

Spreading his great wings, he made a bee-line westward,.; 
determined to see how many miles- he could make before' 
sunset. 

Steadily he worked the treadle all day, sometimes resting 
a quarter of an hour, leaving the wings' outstretched to float 
liira, only guiding it as a pilot guides a ship. 

Towns and villages were passed in endless succession; 
rivers and mountains and valleys were crossed, and still the 
west spread out into an illimitable distance before him. 

When night came, he found lie had made over 300 miles, 
and was elated that he had beaten the railroads. 

He found accommodation in a village hotel, the clerk of 
which took him for a peddler, and he took no pains to dis- 
abuse his mind. 

The noxt morning he resumed his flight, and made even 
better time, having a good breeze in his favor. The broad 



Ohio was reached, and that night, three hours after the stars 
came out, he landed in Cincinnati, alighting on tlie out- 
skirts, and taking a street car for the heart of the city, where 
he put at the Bennett House. 

He was quite tired, and retired early. 

The next day he spent viewing the sights of the city, and 
making purchases of such things as he hal found need of onf 
his trip so far. 

" I need a small water-proof tent," he said. " If I have to , 
descend in order to avoid a thunder-3torm, I may not always 
And a house convenient. Out on the plains I certainly will 
need it. I may as well get one here as elsewhere. I want a 
lunch basket, too." 

Before the day ended he had made all his purchases, and 
attached them to his frame-work, so as not to discommode 
him in his flight. He then spent the evening writing to Sa- 
die, Laura ^ind his mother, telling them of his plans aad des- 
tination. 

The next morning he went out upon the business street of 
the city and made ready to ascend. 
As he started up he yelled: 

"Help— help! Save me— save me!" at the top of his 
voice, and people ran in all directions, greatly excited. 

" Ha— ha — ha!" he chuckled, as he saw thousands of faces 
turned up towards him, " they think some kind of an infer* 
nal machine has got away with me. Why, there's twenty 
thousand people in the street gazing up at me!" 

Spreading out his great wings, he sailed away, leaving the 
queen city of the West behind. 

"Now for St. Louis," and keeping the broad, silvery Ohio 
in view he sailed westward, rising as he advanced. 

" What a magnificent country!" he exclaimed, as the viev7 
spread out for miles upon miles in every direction. "Such 
fifclds of grain! Such lovely rivers! 1 don't wonder the star 
of empire is in the West." 

Late in the afternoon the great " Father of Waters " came 
in sight in the distance. 

"The Mississippi!" he exclaimed. "What a grand river 
it is! it loses itself in the distance as it rolls onward to the 
sea. I never thought I would see it this way. This great 
valley could feed the whole world. Ah! that must be St. 
Louis in the distance there; yies, it must be, as a heavy 
smoke hangs over it, and the river runs by it. Yes, there's 
the Missouri rolling into the Mississippi above the city. 
Why, what a wonderful city it is! It spreads out for miles 
and miles in every direction!*' 

The shadows of night enabled him to eff'ect a landing with- 
out attracting attention. He took the sl^reet car and rode 
into the city, where he put up at a hotel, and madfe himself 
comfortable. 

Taking up a paper the next morning, he saw a telegraphic 
account of the sensation he had created in Cincinnati the 
day before, when he cried for help as he went up. 

He had a quiet laugh all to himself over the afl'air, and re- 
solved to give St. Louis a similar sensation when he started 
out again. 

He spent the day in seeing the sights of tlie cHy, and that 
night he attended the theater. 

The next morning he prepared to resume bis trip, and went 
out into one of the crowded streets ot the city to make the 
first start. Finding a gdod place he touched the elevator. *■ 
worked the treadle vigorously, and cried out in lusty' tones : ' 

" Help— help! I'm being flown away with! Save me!" 

Men dashed toward him, but he was out of reach in a mo- 
ment, going straight up over the housetops. He kept up 
his calls for help as long as his voice couhi be heard. The 
street below was a sea of upturned faces, ere he was a quar- 
ter of a mile high. 

"Ha— ha— ha!" he laughed, "how is that for a sell oui? 
That^s something new in the way of practical jokes." 

Spreading his wings to the breeze, he lowered the elevator 
and seemed thus to be transformed into an immense 'linl, 
sailing lazily away tovrards the boundless prairies of the 
West. 



THE FLYING MAN. 



17 



That night he rested at a small country village on the 
western border of the State, and there saw the change be- 
tween St. Louis and the rough life of the border. 

He was stopping at the only hotel in the place^ which con- 
tained one of the two bar-rooms of the town. He never 
drank any liquors, but remained in the bar-room because the 
bar was in the reception room of the hotel. 

Several men were there drinking all the evening, some of 
whom were more or less under the influence of the stuff' they 
had drank. 

"I say, stranger," said a tall, rough locking, unkempt in- 
dividual, "have a drink with us?" 

Thank you. sir," said Horace politely, "1 never drink 
liquors." 

"You don't!" exclaimed the man. "What in tee-total 
blazes do you drink then?" 

"I drink- water when I'm thirsty," was the quiet reply, 
"and tea, coffee or milk when I feefso disposed." 

" Waal, now, come and drink some whisky with me?" 

" Thanks, but I will not." 

"Ah, yes, you will. Fill up another glass, Bill." 
The bartender filled another glass. 
Horace kept his seat. 
The bully drew a bowie knife and said : 
"Now git up and drink like a man, or I'll slit your wizzen 
for you!" 

Horace quietly arose to his feet, k^nowing that coolness 
and decision alone would save him, drew his revolver, and 
aiming at the astonished bully, said: 

" Drop that knife." 

"Don't shoot!" gasped the man. 

"Drop thai knife!" 

Down went the knife. 

" Hold up your hands!" 

Up went his hands, 

" March out of here!" 

He marched out without saying a word. 

" Take care of his knife, barkeeper," said Horace to the 
bartender. "If he comes here to-niglit we'll have a funeral 
to-morrow. I keep a private cemetery, and every «leeper 
in it died for the want of sense enough to mind their own 
business, and let other people alone.'* 

This was said so quietly that the few roughs in the room 
actually believed it, and accordingly regarded him as a great 
man " on the shoot." 

Some of them went out android the discomfited bully that 
ho had waked up a man who kept a private cemetery. It had 
the efi'ect to keep him away until Horace took his flight 
from the village the next morning. 

The village being off" the line of both railroad and tele- 
graphic communication, had not heard of the ^progress of 
science in the great outside world, consequently, when Hor- 
ace went up and out of their midst on the following morn- 
ing, the people swore he was the devil. 

Horace was now sailing over the great prairies of Kansas, 
and as mile after mile were passed, illimitable rolling coun- 
try seemed like a solidified ocean. Herds of buflfalo were 
seen here and there. Occasionally a small train of white- 
covered wagons could be seen winding slowly along over the 
plain. * 

Away on the right the Kansas Pacific railroad could be 
seen, but Horace desired to keep off from the road in order 
that he might see the wild west in all its glory. 

But when night came on, he could see no habitation, and 
he could see fully ten miles in every direction, so he resolved 
to alight, take out his sliot-gun, and see what he could kill 
in the way of small game for his supper. 

Accordingly he descended just before sunset, and soon 
roused up a flock of prairie chickens, one of which he killed 
on the wing. Making a fire of buffalo chips, he was about 
to commence operations to cook supper, when he discovered 
that he had no water. 

" This will never do," he said. " I must keep on till I find 
water, if it takes all night," and rising in the air again, he 



made a ffight of twenty miles, and alighted on the bank of a 
small river. 

There he found plenty of wood for fuel. He made a fire, 
cooked the prairie hen, pitched his tent, and proceeded to 
make himself comfortable. 

But he did not take off the pack. 

" I must be ready for a surprise," he said; "if attacked, 
I could get away if it is on my back. Otherwise I could 
not." 

Events proved the soundness of his judgment, for mid- 
night found him a prisoner in the hands of Indians, who had 
been attracted by the light of his fire. 

They did not offer him any violence, but bandished toma- 
hawks all about him. 

"What do you want?" he asked of their chief. 

"Want you!" was the repl}'. 

"What for!" 

" Find out. Whar you from, eh?" 
" New York." 
" Whar going?" 
" California." 
" Heap big lie." 

" You are a liar— what do you know about me?'* 
" How come? Whar hoss?" 
" I came on the wing. I fly like the eagle." 
" Heap big lie!" exclaimed the chief, with indignant em- 
phasis. 

" You want to see me flv?" Horace asked. 
"Yes." 

Horace took down his tent, coolly rolled it up and placed 
it where it belonged, the Indians watched him with curious 
interest the while. 

When ready he touched the elevator spring. The snap 
caused some of the redskins to start and step back. When 
it commenced revolving they opened their eyes in conster- 
nation. When he commenced going up the chief gave a yell 
and seized him by the foot. 

Horace can led him up with him. 

The welken rang with yells. 

" You're a dead Indian!" cried Horace, drawing his revol- 
verf as the savage held on for life. 

CHAPTER XVI. 

THE EENEGADE — CAPTIVE MAIDEN — THE RESCUE. 

The chief proved to be a renegade white man, who was 
not subject to the superstitions of his dusky followers; hence, 
the moment he saw Horace escaping his clutches, he sprang 
forward and grasped him by the left foot. 

His weight was much greater than Horace's, and for a 
moment the elevator trembled as Horace worked the treadle 
with all the energy he could throw into the other foot. 

But at last the elevator seemed to gather new strength, 
and rose up above the tree-tops, a slight breeze carrying 
them over the river. 

Horace felt the strain on his leg and knew he could not 
stand it five minutes. 

He drew his revolver and aimed at the desperado's head. 

"You can let go and drop down into the river," he said, 
"or catch a bullet in your head!" 

The chief looked down at the water a hundred feet below, 
and then up at the revolver. 

"I'll let go— but-~but 

" But what?" Horace asked. 

" Can't you come down— half way?" 

" Not an inch. I am going higher." 

With a howl that echoed far up and down the river, the 
villain let go his hold and shot downwards, feet foremost, 
into the river. An answering yell went up from the savages 
on the bank. 

Horace heard the fearful splash, but could see .othing 
definite, as he went upward with great velocity on being re- 
lieved of the double weight. 

" He won't catch another bird byahe leg," chuckled Hor- 



18 THE FLYING MAN. 



ace, "nor any other of the gang. Wish I could have ducked 
the whole crowd for breaking up my camp. What am I to 
do now? Hanged if 1 don't think it would be safer to sleep 
out in the open prairie, and I'm going to try ii." 

Spreading his wings, he flew westward some ten or fifteen 
miles, and tlien descended into the open plain, pitched his 
lent to keep off the dew, and prepared to resume his nap. 

When lie awoke, he opened the door of the tent, and found 
the sun shining brightly, being over an hour high. 

•'What a magnificent scene!" he exclaimed, as he looked 
around at the boundless extent of the prairie. "It seems 
like an ocean of land, so gently rolling away in the distance, 
like the ground swells of old ocean. But how about break- 
fast! No water, no fuel, no game." 

He struck his tent, rolled it up, and started, gun in hand, 
to tramp a mile or two through the grass, in tlie hope of be- 
ing able to scare up some kind of game. He did not have 
far to go ere he was startled by the sudden arising of a tiock 
of prairie chickens. 

Quickly raising his gun, he brought down one on the 
wing., 

"That'll do for breakfast," he said, as he went forward 
and picked it up. " I'll follow, and get another for dinner." 

Patiently trudging along through the grass, he came up 
with the flock again, and secured another. 

" Oh, I won't starve on this trip," he chuckled. "Here 
goes for another!" and as one of the chickens flsw over him 
he tired and brought it down. 

"Enough to last two days. Now for a place to cook 
them." 

Securing the game in the lunch basket which he had at- 
tached to the frame of the pack, he was about to touch the 
elevator spring when his eye caught sight of several horse- 
men bearing down upon him at full speed. 

"Oh, ho! more redskms! I'll give 'em something to do 
this time." 

He saw five horsemen, and straining his eyes he could see 
a larger number at a greater distance, who were apparently 
waiting for those five to pick him up and rejoin them. 

When they were within one hundred yards of him Horace 
commenced going up. 

The astonished redskins reined up their horses, and glared 
as if the ghosts of their ancestors were rising out of the 
ground Lifore them. 

Horace spread out his wings and gave a whoop. 

The five redskins wheeled their horses, and sped away as 
fast as their steeds could c irry them. 

Horace gave chase, and never before =^ince the Indiana 
roamed the plains did redskins ever make such speed. They 
were utterly demoralized, believing the great winged mon- 
ster to be some supernatural power — an evil spirit. 

Mile after mile were passed, and the main body — perhaps 
fifty in number, caught the demoralization and dashed away 
at the top of their speed, going northward. 

But one of their number lagged behind, though his pony 
was doing his best to keep up with the others. 

Horace swooped down upon him with a yell, and made a 
grab at his scalp-lock. 

The terror-stricken savage slipped down almost under the 
pony's beily, though going at full speed. 

The expression of his face was such as<o cause Horace to 
burst into a loud laugh. 

A more frightened look could never be imagined. 

It was a combination of terror and utter demoralization. 

The pony seemed to partake of hia master's despair. 

He snorted, reared, plunged, and almost flew over the 
plains. 

At last, when Horace swooped so low as to touch him, the 
faithful pony made a last desperate plunge and dropped 
dead. 

With a howl of despair, the Indian took to his heels, and 
fairly flew over the prairie, running in a zigzag sort of way, 

Horace chased him, frequently catching him by the hair 
and cutting off handflils of it. 



Finally the redskin fell, burying his face in the grass, and 
lying motionless, as if dead. 

But Horace knew very well that he was not dead. He was 
only scared. 

He alighted near him, pistol in hand, and spoke to hini. 

" You are a bad Indian," he said. " The flying people will 
come and destroy ail the bad Indians. Go tell your people 
to steal no more horses, take no more scalps, or the Great 
Spirit will send his flying people to destroy them all," and 
with that Horace arose in the air again, keeping his eye on 
him as he ascended. 

When up a considerable distance he sow the fellow life up 
his head and look around. Not seeing his pursuer, he look- 
ed up, sprang to his feet, gazed steadily after the flying mys- 
tery, and then threw himself on the ground again in an atti- 
tude of adoration. 

"Ha— ha— ha I" laughed Horace, now half a mile up in 
the air. "That redskin will never forget that racket. He'll 
be a great medicine man among his people after this, for 
he'll tell them a big yarn the * Great Spirit ' gave to him, 
and the fools will believe him. But it'll make 'em behave 
themselves for a while, anyhow." 

Seeing the others a long way oflT, Horace turned his course 
westward and tried to see how fast he could go. The wind 
was in his favor, and in a very short time the scene of hia 
adventure with the Indians was far behind in the dim dis- 
tance. 



CHAPTER XYII. 

MEETING OF FATHER AND CHILD. 

The great plain seemed like a vast level as Horace s,)ed 
over it, reeling otf mile after mile in rapid succession. Rpvers 
were passed, herds of bufl"alo and the white covers of a few 
wagon trains were seen, and tiien the country, as he ap- 
proached Colorado, became more hilly, though the mount- 
ains were still many, many miles awaj'. 

As he sailed along he espied an Indian village on the 
banks of a river, alid brought his spy-glass to bear upon it. 

"Nobody but women and children and old men," he mut- 
tered, as he gazed down on the village, still a long way off. 
"I guess the buciis are off on a big hunt. By my soul, if 
there isn't a white girl among the children. She keeps aloof 
from the rest, and looks sad and dejected. I'll drop down 
there and see who she is." 

He commenced making grticeful circles in the air, descend- 
ing nearer the earth with each circuit. 

At last the children saw him, and fl^ed screaming to the 
wigwams. 

The old men came out, but immediately retired, as did the 
old women. " 

Horace alighted on the river bank and walked deliberately 
up to the largest of the wigwams, knowing the Indians were 
too much demoralized to make any resistance or to attack 
him. 

" The white child!" he cried, in a loud voice. " Bring her 
out — the Great Spirit wants to see her." 

An old Indian led the child out by the hand. The savage 
was trembling with fright, and the girl, a pretty fourteen- 
year-old child, was as pale as death. 

" What is your name?" Horace asked of the girl. 

" Millie Morris," she replied. 

" Where from?" 

The old Indian gave her a sign, and she re nained silent. 

" Come here to me- 1 am your friend. What! Yon won't 
let her go? The red man will die if he opposes the man of 
the sky." 

The old savage released her, and the child approached 
Horace trembfingly. 

"My child, how came you here?" he asked, taking both 
her hands in his. 

"They stole me away from my father's ranch up on the 
White River," she half whispered. 

"When?" 



THE FLY 



" Last year, and the chief says I shall be he his squaw this 
winter." 

**Do you want to return to your people?" 

" Yes— oh, yes!" was the eager reply. 

** Then you shall go," and Horace at once began lashing 
her to his side, she being too frightened to make any reaist- 
ance. 

When ready he turned to the Indian and said: 
The Great Spirit has sent for the child of the wiiite man. 
He will punish the red man," and touching the elevator 
spring he placed his foot in the treadle and began to rise. 

A cry from the girl, as she began to ascend, brought every 
man, woman and child out of the wigwams, who gazed up 
in wondering amazement. 

Horace sj)read out his great wings and sailed majestically 
away. 

Don't be frightened, child," said Horace to the young girl. 

I am a white man who has invented a flying machine. I'll 
carry you back to your home." 

"And you are not a spirit?" she exclaimed. 

"Why, no! I am flesh and blood like yourself," and ar- 
ranging the chair frame, he seated himself in it, and held her 
on his lap. " I am simply a smart young man, that's all. 1 
can fly, you see, and tliat's what fools the Indians." 

The young girl's astonishment was unbounded, yet she was 
singularly free from nervousness. 

She seemed like one in a dream, yet did not fail to keep an 
arm around his neck in order to make sure of her position. 

"Is there any danger?" she Anally asked. 

" None in the least. I can fly above the clouds with yoti, 
and be as safe as though we were walking on the ground." 

"And will you take me back to my home?" 

" Yes, if you can tell me where it is." 

" Oh, I can do that. Oh, how glad I am! I know mama 
and papa think I am dead?" 

" Were the Indians kind to you?" 

" Yes, but that was because they were afraid of the chief 
whose wife I was to be." 

"You would have been his wife, would you?' 

" No, I made up my mmd if I could not escape to drown 
myself in the river. I never dreamed that a man would fly 
through the air and take me away." 

" No, I suppose not. Most people are surprised at seeing 
a man fly," and Horace laughed good naturedly. 

"The Indians think you are the Great Spirit, as they 
know that a man can't fly — there I Look there!" And, point- 
ing away to the southwest, she called his attention to a body 
of Indians with tTieir horses, all lying on the ground at the 
foot of a low range of hills. 

" What does that mean?" Horace asked, as he looked at 
the scene from the elevation. 

" Look over beyond those hills," said she, "and you will 
see a a little camp of whites with five wagons. These In- 
dians are waiting for night to come so they can attack and 
capture the wagons, kill the men, and keep the women and 
children.' 

"Good Heavens!" exclaimed Horace, looking, at the pale- 
faced girl. " How know you that?" 

"I have heard them talk' of such things," she replied, 
" until I know just how they do." 

"I must warn the whiles of their'danger, and he turned m 
the direction of the little camp of whites. 

He made several circles above the camp and saw the men, 
about a dozen in number, get their rifles and gaze up at him 
as though waiting to get a good shot. 

When almost within rifle shot, he cried out: 

"Hafloo, down3there!" 

There was considerable commotion in the camp — every- 
body seemingly excited. 

"I've got some news for you!" cried Horace again as he 
descended nearer to them, and in a few moments they began 
to realize that he was a man. 

In a few minutes he alighted a short distance from the 
camp, and folded his wings into the pack on his back. 



ING MAN. 19 



"Hold on, thar, stranger!" cried a gruff' voice from behind 
the wagons. " Who mout yer be, anyliow?" 

" I am Horace Mellville, of New York," replied Horace. 
"I am traveling with my flying machine." 

" By gum!" exclaimed the same grufl" voice. **I ought ter 
know that gal— Millie!" 

"Papa— papa! Oh, papa!" cried the young girl, running 
forward towards the wagons. 

Theowner of the gruff' voice sprang from behind the wagons, 
ran to meet her and clasped her to his heart, whilst tears 
coursed down his bronzed cheeks, 

"Millie! My child!" he sobbed " Whar hev ye bin?" 

"The Indians carried me away, papa, and Mr. Mellville 
flew down and brought me away to you! Oh, I am so glad! 
Wiiere is mama?" 

"Up at the ranch. She thinks ye war wiped out," and 
the ola frontiersman pressed his chfld to his heart with all 
the father's tenderness and afl'ection, while she hugged and 
kissed him and cried for joy. 

The other men, women and children crowded around 
Horace to see his flying machine. But only the pack on his 
back could be seen, which aroused their' curiosity all the 
more. 

" See here," said Horace, as the father of the young girl he 
had rfcRcued approached, "are you the guide for this party?" 
"Yes." 

"Did you know there was a band of Indians lying behind 
those hills back there watching you?" 
" No." 

" Well, there is, and that's what caused me to come down 
and see you. There's enough of them to give you trouble." 

"By gum!" growled Morris, releasing his daughter's hand. 
" I'll give them' some trouble," and tlie spirit of the frontiers- 
man evinced itself in his flashing eyes. 

" There are only a dozer, of us." suggested one of the party, 
his voice faltering and face as pale as death. 

"But we have repeating rifles," replied another. 

" But they'll attack us in the night." 

"Give me a couple of repeating rifles," said Horace, "and 
I think I can drive them all away." 

GHAPTEE XYIII. 

SAVING A WAGON TRAIN. 

The proposition excited the liveliest curiosity, and the 
party crowded still closer around him to hear the details. 

" How'U yer do it, stranger?" Morris asked. 

"I'll fly directly over them and open tire on them, keeping 
up high enough to be out of danger myself." 

" Ein yer doit?" 

" Ves, of course I can," 

"Give us yer hand, pard!" and Morris grasped Horace's 
hand in his with a hearty grip. "Yer saved my child an' 
I'm yer friend agin all ther world, l am, Hyer, bring me 
two of them 'ere repeatin' guns." 

Two splendid repeating rifles, each carrying sixteen 
charges, were given to Horace. 

"Be on your guard, now," said Horace, as he fastened the 
rifles to his belt. "They'll scatter as soon as they under- 
Scand the danger, and may come this way, some of them, at 
least." 

" Let 'em come," said Morris. 

Horace then touched the spring, and the elevator shot up 
in its place, and responded faithfully to the working of the 
treadle. 

" By gum!" ejaculated Morris, as Horace began to ascend, 
"I'll hev one o' them things or die!" 

When Horace was up a good distance he spread his wings, 
and took in the elevator. Horace noticed that the Indians 
were greatly exercised over his presence, and were huddled 
together watching him. 

Taking good aim with the repealing rifle ho flred, and an 
Indian dropped dead with a bullet in his head. 

The greatest consternation prevailed among them at once. 



20 



THE FLYING MAN. 



They crowded around him to see where he was hurt. 

Bang! and auother one got a bullet la his shoulder. 

Bang! a back broken. 

Bang! bullet in the head again. 

Bang! another dead savage. 

Bang! a bullet in a hip. 

Yells of terror burst from the wretches, for they now knew 
where the fatal shots came from. 

They fired their rifles up in the air, but he was out of their 
reach. 

He continued to fire, and they dropped in quick succession, 
each giving vent to his death yell as he caught the bullet, 
unless shot in the brain. 

They could find no place of refuge save under their horses, 
and there they hid themselves rather than mount and 
attempt to ride away in the face of such a terrible foe. 

"Ha-ha-ha!" chuckled Horace, as he saw them huddling 
under their horses. " That's cruelty to animals witli a ven- 
geance. I hate to shoot the horses, but they must be driven 
off if 1 have to kill every horse they've got.' Bang! There 
goes one, now!" 

The wounded horse reared and fell back on his haunches, 
then plunged forward and fell, leaving his savage owner 
exposed to the rifle of his flying foe. 

. The terrified savage flew toward another horse, but a bul 
let brought him down. 

Then howls of terror went up, as the savages saw that one 
by one their horses could be killed off and then themselves. 

In their desperation they mounted their horses and scat- 
tered, going at full speed in every direction save the camp 
of the whites. 

Thinking he had punished them enough Horace did not 
fire on them again, but lot them go, knowing they were too 
thoroughly demoralized to ever think of attempting to at- 
tack the whites again. 

He continued to sail around for some time, though, to 
make sure that the savages had gone clear away. He watch- 
ed them until their horses seemed but little moving specks 
on the prarie. 

When' the last one had disappeared in the distance Horace 
returned to the camp to receive the thanks of the wliites, 
who crowded around and overwhelmed him with their grati- 
tude. 

" By guml" exclaimed Morris, the old guide, *'they can't 
tackle that thing, pa-'d." 

You are right. I can whip a regiment easily if I could 
carry arms enough. They can't well hide from me, you know." 

"xTo. Did you make that thing, yard?" 

"Yes, everything about it." 

"Waal, I've got a good ranch up on White river, with 
lots of horses an' cattle on it. They're all yours, pard, ef 
yer'll put wings on me like them." 

"That's a good offer, my friend," said Horace, laughing. 

If I were back in my shop in New York I might accept it. 
But as these are all the wings I have, you see we cannot 
trade." 

"Yes, that's so," said the old guide, slowly, "but I'll go 
to New York, an' hev yer make me one, eh?" 

"Yes, when I return from my present trip, I will try to 
make you one." 

"Ef yer will, pard, I'll clean out every redskin at ween 
heaven an' t'other place." 

" Then I ought not to make it," said Horace, "as the In- 
dians have as much right to live as you or mo." 

"No, darn 'em, they ain't!" was Morris's emphatic reply. 
"I never saw a live good 'un in my life." 

" That's so," assented half a dozen others. 

The emigrants insisted on Horace staying with them, and, 
as night was coming on, he agreed to do so, and for the first 
time since he started on his trip, he enjoyed himself after a 
day's flight. There were several women— three of whom 
were young maidens of very interesting age— in the party, 
who exerted themselves to make it pleasant for him. 

Millie Morris told the story of her experience among the 



Indians, and Horace related some of his adventures on the 
wing, in both of which they were all deeply interested. 

On the morrow he wanted to resume his journey west- 
ward, but Morris and the others begged him so earnestly to 
spend another day with them, that he consented, and a more 
pleasant day he never spent than when traveling along in one 
of the wagons with Millie Morris and two other young 
ladies. 

They stopped to camp on the banks of a small stream, 
where there was plenty of grass for their tired stock. 

During the day they saw signs of buffaloes, and were quite 
anxious to kill one in order to have a supply of fresh meat. 

When they pitched their camp on the banks of the little 
stream, Horace took a repeating rifle and went up a thou- 
sand feet or more to see if he could find any buflbloes. 

Away to the right, some five miles or so, he saw several 
black specks moving about on the plains, and at once started 
to see what they were. 

" Buffaloes!" he exclaimed, leveling his sp5^-glass at them. 

" I'll pick one out of that flock and give them some fresh 
meat for supper to-night." 

In a very little while he was circling around over the 
buffaloes; the huge beasts never looked up, so busy were 
they feasting on the rich, succulent grass. 

" There goes a calf," said Horace to himself, as he espied 
a smaller one following the others at a little distance off". 
" He dosen*t seem to be as fat as he ought to be, but he 
would be more tender than the old ones." 

Circling lower and lower, Horace found himself within 
fifty feet of the ground, when the calf he was maneuvering 
to get a shot at suddenly raised its head and stared at 
him. 

Horace raised his rifle quickly, and flred, 

" To his horror the head fell to the ground, and a man 
staggered back from under the black skin, holding a gun in 
his hand. 



CHAPTER XIX. 

HORACE SHOOTS AT A BUFFALO AND HITS A MAN. 

Had one of his wings broken and sent him falling head- 
Jong towards the earth, Horace could not have been more 
astonished than he was when he saw what he supposed was 
a buffalo calf suddenly transformed into a human being, a 
white man at that. 

The man himself was none the less astonished; he stared 
at the winged monster with the air and manner of a man 
gazing on the ghost of his defunct grandmother. 

"What kind of a buffalo are you?"*cried Horace, still 
circling around up in the air, all fthe real buffaloes having 
scampered off on hearing the shot. 

" What kind of a bird are you?" demanded the other, his 
eyes almost popping out of his head. 

" I'm no bird at all," replied Horace. "I m the Flying 
Man." 

"What be yer shootin' at me for, then, eh?" 
^ " Thought you were a young buffalo," said Horace. "I 
am sorry. Hope I didn't hit you." 

"But yer did," replied the man. "I'm hit in the shoul- 
der." 

" Hold on there till I come down," said Horace, and in a 
minute or two he stood by the man, whose hand he grasped 
in his, saying: 

" I beg your pardon, stranger. I really thought you were 
a young buffalo. I had often read of you hunters creeping 
up on the buffaloes that way, but I never dreamed that you 
were one. Let me see where you are hit." 

"I'm hit in ther shoulder," said the man, pointing to his 
left shoulder, where the cloth was torn by the bullet. " But 
look hyer, stranger, how 'bout that ere flyin'? Men don't fly 
much in these parts, they don't." 

" No, they don't," replied Horace, laughing. " I guess I 
am the only flying man in the world." 

" How do yer do it, stranger?" ' 



THE FLYINU MAN. 



21 



" I made me a flying machine, that's all.*' 

" Humph! that's enough. Whar ye from?" 
New York — bound for San Francisco," and Horace pro- 
ceeded to examine the wound his bullet had made. He found 
that the bullet had merely grazed the skii/, but so closely as 
to make a blue-black spot , which, at first, is always more 
painful *han a more serious wound. 

"Why, the skin is not broken I" exclaimed Horace, de- 
lightedly. 

**Is that so, pard!" cried the man. ** Hanged ef I didn't 
think the whole thing was shot off! Qive us yer hand, 
pard. Ye're a blasted poor shot an' I'm glad on it I" and 
the two men shook hands cordially for several seconds. 

"1 guess the shot would have killed a buffalo, though," 
remarked Horace, looking down at the buffalo skin and 
head the man had used for the purpose of getting near 
enough to the herd to pick out a good one, 

" Oh, yes, of course you couldn't miss a buffler," and 
the man laughed good-naturedly. "But I've missed the 
one I wer arter, an' we ain't got no meat in camp." 

" Where is your camp?" Horace astved. 

"Back thar in ther timber," said the man, pointing to a 
localiLy several miles below where Morris and his. party tvere 
encamped. 

" Wh^^re's your horse?" 

The man gave a peculiar whistle, and the next moment 
Horace saw a horse rise up out of the grass sorne three quar- 
ters of a mile away, and run toward him at full speed. 

He was charmed. 

" That's a well-trained animal," he said. 

«« Yes— lie'll fight for me, too," remarked the man. 

"Now wait here," said Horace, "till I kill you a buffalo. 
I want some fresh meat for my friends, too," and with that 
he commenced working the elevator treadle. 

" By gosh!" exclaimed the man, as Horace went up, " that 
beats ther railroad an' tally graft!'' 

" There they are, on your right," said Horace, as he caught 
sight of the buflaloea behind a low range of hills some three 
or four miles away. " I'll have one for you by the time you 
can get there." 

Spreading his wings, h3 sailed straight in the direction 
of the herd,' while the man put forward on his horse at full 
speed. 

The huge, shaggy animals were quietly grazing beyond a 
low range of hills, little dreaming of the presence of man, 
their inveterate enemy, when Horace swooped down upon 
them. 

Selecting a fine young cow, he dashed within fiftj^ feet of 
it, and fired. 

The ball went true to the mark, and tbe game fell dead 
where it stood. 

Quickly tiring again, he brought down another^ and but 
for the appearance of the man on horseback would have shot 
another. 

"Never kill more than yer need of this game, stranger!" 
cried the man. 

"All right," replied Horace, "but I gness I've done that 
already." 

" Mebbe yer heVj'but it's done," and the plan dismounted 
to proceed with the skinning of the game. 

Horace was delighted with his dexterity, for no profession- 
al butcher could have relieved the buffalo of his overcoat 
quicker than did the hunter. 

" You understand the business," he said. 

"Yes, I had to, pard," was the reply, " seein' as how I've 
had to live on 'em." 

" How much of this one will you take back to camp?" 

" One hind-quarter." 

" Then what'U become of the rest?" 

" What yer don't take the coyotes will 'tend ter, I reckon." 

" The coyotes! I don't see any 'round here." 

"No, nor yer won't, nuther, but when ni«ht comes an' yer 
give 'em leave, thar'll be a hundred on 'em hyer pickin' these 
bones." 



"By George! I guess I'd better take a good-sized piece 
witij me, then!" said Horace. 

*' Yes, if you want any fresh meat," said the man, dryly. 

Horace cut off about half of the hind quarters, secured it 
with a stout cord, and prepared to rise in the air with it, 

" Siiy, stranger," said the hunter, " move yer camp down 
whar we be I" 

"i have no control over the train. That belongs to old 
Morris, the guide." 

"Morris," exclaimed the man, in evident surprise. 

" Yes," replied Horace, " do you know him?" 

"Yes. I'll come up th:ir to-night, pard." 

" All right. We'll be glad to see you," and Horace began 
to ascend. 

The man stared at him in dumfounded amazement until 
Horace spread his wings and sailed away, when he mounted 
his horse, with his meat, and rode in another direction. 

In half an hour Horace was over the little camp, and all 
the women and children were watching him v/ith tlie deepest 
interest. 

"Oh, there's the meat!" cried Millie Morris. "Buffalo 
meat! He has killed a buffalo!" 

They all gathered around him eager to hear his story when 
he alighted. He told the story of his shot at the decoy buf- 
falo, at which old MvH'rls laughed with great glee. 

" He says he knows j^ou, Mr. Morris," said Horace, " and 
that he will come up and see you to-night." 

At this Morris became serious. 

He could not imagine who the man was, though Horace 
gave an accurate description of him, ^ 

Horace made up his mind that he would like to see those 
coyotes during the night, and hinted as much to Morris. 

" Why not ketch one?" said Morris. 

"How?" 

" Lasso 'em," 

" But I don't know how." 

"Reckon yer kin I'arn. Jest drop a noose down amoag 
'em and jerk it up agin. Ef they ar purty thick yer'U git 
one on 'em sure. Bring 'im h^'er an' we'll hev some fun 
with the pesky varmint." 

Horace took the long, slender lasso, which Morris pre- 
pared for him, and about an hour after partaking of supper 
with the emigrants, started away towards the scene of his 
recent adventures. 



CHAPTER XX., 

CATCHING A COYOTE. 

The sun had been some two hours or more below the 
horizon when Horace reached the place where the dead 
buffaloes were. 

He could not see the spot from his height, but the short 
yelps and sharp growls of the coyotes told plainly where they 
were. He descended to within thirty feet of the ground, and 
saw a fighting, wriggling mass of at least half a hundred 
coyotes, literally covering the two carcasses. 

Dropping the lasso in their midst only for a moment, he 
felt that one was instantly entangled in the noose. 

He sailed away, and discovered that he had one secured 
around the shoulders. 

How he yelped and jumped! 

When he felt himself risinsf in the air he sent forth a cry 
of alarm that every one in the gang seemed to understand, 
for they instantly left off feasting, and ran wildly to and fro, 
as if uncertain what to do. 

"Ha— ha— ha!" laughed Horace, as he arose higher and 
higher with his prize. " I guess you're the first of your tribe 
that ever met with such an adventure. Don't he wriggle, 
though! The fool would break every bone in his body were 
he to slip the noose!" 

In due time he reached the camp. 

" I've got one, Morris!" he cried out, as he circled around 
over the camp. '" What shall I do with him?" 

" Bring him down an' give 'ira to me. We'll hev a fight 
with our dogs." 



22 



THE FLYING MAN. 



Horace descended, and the moment the coyote's feet 
touched the ground, he treated the spectators to some of the 
tallest leaping ever witnessed. 

He would run to the end of the slender line, and then 
spring ten feet or more in the air, repealing the experiment 
as often as his feet touched the ground. 

"Whoop!" cried one of the party, "don't he jump, 
though! Look out, there he goes again I Let the dogs get 
at him!" 

Horace gave the line to the old guide, and at once folded 
his wlngcs and laid off the pack. 

"Go it, now, yer sneaking varmint!'' cried Morris, giving 
the captive cayote the fall length of the line. 

Whiz! went the small, wiry animal, bounding up ten or 
fifteen feet when he felt the line. 

" Caleb him, old fellow!" cried another to his dog. 

Tho dogs responded, and made for the libel on their race. 

But if the cayote is the most contemptible of all the 
canine species, he is also the swiftest. 

He has been known to actually smile at a dog chasing 
him. 

He can trot faster than the swiftest greyhound can run. 

There is only one animal that can show him his heels, and 
that is the jackass rabbit. 

Old hunters never shoot at coyotes or jackass rabbits when 
they are running away from them. 

Bullets can't overtake them. 

So Horace's coyote ran away from the dogs to the end of 
the line, then sprang into the air, leaving the dogs pointing 
their noses skyward, waiting for him to come down. 

fie never came down where he was expected, and when he 
did he went up again. 

",Well," exclaimed Horace, "that beats anything I ever 
saw. That fellow would make a man's fortune in New York. 
People would pay to see such leaping as that. Don't kill 
him. Keep him." 

" Keep ther devil!" growled old Morris. " He ain't worth 
the room. I'll let them dogs chaw 'im up." 

" No, no; shoot him!" 

" Ain't worth the lead," said Morris. , 

Horace stood by the side of Millie and watched the frantic 
efforts of the poor beast to escape his doom, until he saw 
his strength failing him. Then, unwilling to see the dogs 
mangle him, he turned away and walked back to the camp- 
fire with the young girl. 

" I shall go away to-morrow," he said. 

"I am sorry," and the sad look in her eyes told how truly 
she had spoken. 

" So am I. The best of friends must part, you know." 

"No, I didn't know that," and she looked up into his face 
with an honest, artless expression that charmed him. "You 
are not obliged to leave us." 

" Indeed I am. I must go to San Francisco, and then re- 
turn to New York." . 

"But you will come back again, will you not?" 

" I don't know. It's a long way from my home out 
here." 

" Won't you come back and see her whom you saved from 
a cruel fate?" and as she bent her eyes full of tears upon him 
his heart was touched. 

"Millie, do you want me to come?" he asked. 

" Oh, yes, ever so much. I shall couni the hours until I 
see you again/' 

" Then I will stop on my way back from San Francisco," 
he said. 

" Oh, I am so glad!" and a bright, happy look came into 
her eyes. 

Just then the wrangling of the dogs told that the poor 
coyote was no more. He had succumbed to the inevitable. 

Morris and his men were returning to the camp-fire when 
the man whom Horace had shot at among the buffaloes en- 
terea the camp. 

"Halloo, Bascom!" 

" Halloo, Morris!" and the two old friends of long years 



ago grasped each other's hands and shook for several min- 
utes. 

" Whar hev you bin, Bascom?" Morris asked. 

" Down on the Colorado. Whar hev you bin, Morris?" 

" Up on White River. Blast my eyes ef I ain't glad ter 
see yer, Bascom. Say, Sandford, fetch out that ere jug! 
Me an' Bascom is gwine^to drink!" 

Sandford brought out a jug of whisky and handed it to the 
old guide. 

Morris drew the cork and passed it over to Bascom. 

"Bascom, old pard," he said, his voice somewhat husky, 
" we hev fought and starved together, an' hed heaps o' hard 
knocks an' drinks, but we'll drink to it all again. Turn her 
up, pard. Look straight up thar whar them seven stars is 
peepin' at yer. Pull hard an' slow, pard, an' don't them 
stars oUt-blink yer. Whai! Yer ain't a temperancer, pard?" 

"No, pard," said Bascom, putting down the jug after a 
strong pull at it, "but my skin won't hold no more." 

" Just watch them stars, then, pard," and Morris turned 
up the jug and held it steady until Sandford thought he 
would surely empty it. When, with a eigh of infinite satis- 
faction he put it down, Sandford mechanically took it up as 
if to test its reduced weight. 

" Now, pard," said Morris, "set down thar an' tell us yer 
story— thar's my darter, pard," pointing to Millie, who was 
still standing by Horace's side. 

Bascom looked at the blushing girl and said : 

"She is like yer, pard. I'll bet on her grit." 

"So will I," said Horace. " She is all game." 

Millie blushed scarlet, and looked happy, while her father 
related the story of her capture by the Indians, and rescue 
by the Flying Man. 



CHAPTER XXL 

IN THE MINES. 

Early the next morning Horace began to make prepara- 
tions to resume his flight westward. 

He shook hands with every one in the party, including 
Bascom, who had spent the night with them. 

" Don't forgit, pard," said Morris, as he grasped his hand, 
" that yer hev promised to come an' see us up on White 
river. Yer hev got ther p'ints, an' can't miss us." 

" I won't forget, my old friend," said Horace, turning to 
shake hands with Millie the last one. 

She was pale as death when he took her hand, but as red 
as a beet when he drew her to him and kissed her. 

"I will come back again, Millie," he whispered, and the 
young girl was supremely happy. 

Touching the elevator spring, he ascended to a good 
height aiTd then spread his wings. 

The sun was just rising over the low range of hills east- 
ward, and the sight was grandly beautiful as he surveyed it 
from his elevation. 

In a short half hour he was completely out of sight of 
those in the little camp behind. 

The further west he got the more hilly the country became. 
Streams were more numerous, and great forests took the 
place of the prairie. 

Mountains began to^loom up in advance of him— the great, 
rugged mountains of Colorado. 

" Ah!" he exclaimed. " I shall certainly see some eagles 
now— the old bald-headed Rocky Mountain fellows. I must 
be on the look out for them. That must be Denver off over 
there. Ah! There's snow on that peak over there! It's 
something to be able to go where human foot has never trod 
before. Pll go straight for that peak, and see how it 
looks." 

On his way toward the wildest part of the mountains he 
saw several eagles failing majestically above him. As he 
approached nearer he heard several shrill screams, and soon 
a dozen eagles were hovering within rifle shot of him. 

" I wonder if they will attack?" he said, getting his gun 



THE FLYING MAN. 



23 



The question was soon answered hy an eagle swooping 
by within ten feet of him. 

Soon several passed him almost touching him with their 
wings. 

Bang! went his gun, and an eagle went tumbling earth- 
ward. 

The noise of the gun in that high altitude was tremendous. 
The eagles screamed and scattered, giving him a wide 
berth, and he sailed on towards the snow capped peak, 
which Le reached and circled around several times, actually 
touching the highest point with his foot as he skimmed over 
it. 

Having satisfied his curiosity, he resumed his flight west 
ward, passing mountains, valleys and rivers in succession 
until he came in sight of a regular mining town, which he 
knew by the descriptions he had read of the style of their 
shanties and the red shirts of the miners. 

Hanged if I don't stop there for the night," he said, as 
he looked down upon the busy scene. 

His appearance was soon known, for hundreds of red- 
shirt ed fellows came up out of holes in the ground and stared 
at him. 

Some ran out of shanties with rifles in their hands. 
*' Don't shoot!" cried Horace, and the consternation below 
was plainly to be seen. 
*' What ar ye?'' cried a voice. 
" A man like you," was the reply, 
"Men don't fly," came back. 

" Weil, I do. Wait till I come down," and Horace circled 
around and around till he landed, when his wings were 
promptly folded u'p in the pack on his back. 

"A flyin' peddler, by gum!" exclaimed a miner, within 
ten feet of him. 

''Don't you bet on that, stranger," said Horace, good- 
naturedly. "I am just trying my flying machine. What 
place is this?" 

"This is Gold Gulch, stranger," replied another. '* Whar 
in hail Coluraby did you come^from?" 

"I've just come from New York. Am going to San Fran- 
cisco." 

"Flewed all ther way?" 
" Yes, all the way.'' 

The red-shii'ted miner looked around at his comrades, as 
if to see what they thought of it. 

Every face was the picture of utter amazement. They 
seemed almost stunned. 

" See hyer, stranger,'' said the red-shirted miner, " ef yer 
ar tellin' a lie, I've got the jimjams, for I seed yer flyin'. Ef 
yer ar talkin' straight out gospil I'm in for a big drunk. No 
man can fly over Jim Blanton, 'thout takin' a drink with 
him. Look hyer, boys. Kin a man fly?" 

'* We seed him, pard," cried a voice in the crowd. 

" Yer did? Yer ain't er dreamin' now, eh? Wipe yer eyes 
an' wake up." 

Dozens of miners actually rubbed their eyes and pinched 
themselves to test the question of the wakefulness. 

"Give us yer paw, stranger!" cried Eed Shirt, grasping 
Horace's hand in his brawny palm. " Gome down to Pete's 
an' have a drink." 

"Thank you, " said Horace. " f never drin k. " 

" Then yer won't never fly any more, young man," said the 
miner, drawing a seven shooter. " Yer have got to drink 
suthin' hot an' straight with Jim Blanton. Yer can't fly over 
me that way. Oh, no." 

"Oh, well, one drink won't hurt me," laughed Horace, 
seeing the queer earnestness of the big, red-shirted fellow. 

" Of course it won't. Come on, fellows!" 

Hundreds of miners rushed pell-mell down the side of the 
hill towards a large double shanty where Pete Corley kept a 
bar stocked with the vilest liquors ever concocted. 

They crowded inside, making room for Blanton and Hor- 
ace, however. 

"Hyer, Bill!" sung out Blanton to the bartender, "sling 



out yer best pizen. My friend from overhead wants a nip 
of it." 

Horace took a moderate drink, clinking glasses, with 
Blanton. 

"Now, if any man says yer ain't the whitest dove in the 
Rock he's got rne to lick," and Blanton slapped him familiar- 
ly on his shoulder as he spoke. 

The excited miners crowded in until they were actually 
wedged in like so many sardines. No man could turn around, 
or go forward, or move in any direction. 

Crash! went the counter before the bar. 

" Git back, I say!" roared Fete. 

" Git back thar!" cried Blanton. 

"My machine will be ruined," said Horace. 

Somebody fired a pistol. 

The click-click of a dozen more were heard, and Horace 
turned pale. 

He had often read of the reckless character of the men 
around him, and knew that a spark would set ott" the vol- 
cano, 

" Gentlemen," he cried; " if you will pass out I'll show you 
how the old thing works! ' 

" That's ther game. Yer have taken the pile, pard," said 
Pete, gratefully. " Yer kin have a free ticket," and the ex- 
cited crowd began a rush for the door. But the next moment 
a crash was heard, and Horace saw the whole side of the 
shanty give way. 



CHAPTER XXII. 

THE ROW AT GOLD GULCH. 

When he saw the side of the shanty give way, Horace ex- 
pected to see the roof come down immediately; but two 
posts in the center held it up, though it was lowered about 
two feet on the side of the accident, and men had to stoop 
as they passed out. 

Wild hurrahs rent the air, and every minute hundreds 
were added to the throng of excited miners. 

" Hyer, pard, yer have got ter fly," said Jim Blanton, 
clutching Horace by the arm. "Kin yer do it?" 

" I guess I can," said Horace. 

" 'Causft ef yer can't, ye're a dead coon," said Blanton. 
" This is a pretty tough crowd." 

"It's all ther style, pard. Ef yer l^in fly, yer fortune's 
made." 

"Make 'em stand back," said Horace, "and give me 
room." 

" Hyer, boys, stan' back. Give 'im room ter spread his 
wings." 

The crowd, now numbering over one thousand men. fell 
back, making quite a circle around him. 

Horace touched the spring, sent up the elevator, and com- 
menced working the treadle. 

As he went up, murmurs of astonishment followed him. 

"Up— up he went, until he was fully a mile high, when 
he spread his wings and sailed around' and around as the 
eagles are wont to do. 

Every miner in Gold Gulch was out gazing up at him. 

Such a wonder seemed to knock their old time notions com- 
pletely out of joint. 

" I am not sure that it would be safe for me to go back 
down there," said Horace, "as they are a rough crowd, and 
some of them may want to kill me for the purpose of getting 
possession of my machine. Blanton will stand bv me, 
though, 1 guess. But I don't want any more of that Pete's 
liquor." . 

The sun was sinking behind the Western hills when Hor- 
ace descended. 

There was a rush of miners to take him by the hand when 
his feet touched the earth; but Blanton was the first to reach 
him. 

"It's a good claim, pard," he said, " a regular bonanza. 
Yer won't sell it, eh?" 

" Oh, no, of course not; but I'll make some for sale when 
I go back home." 



24 



THE FLYING MAK 



''Comedown to my shanty, pard," and Blanton eagerly 
grasped him by the arm; I'll stake out a claim with 
yer." 

Horace went with him, followed by hundreds of miners, 
all anxious to inspect the inner machinery of his pack. Biit 
none of inem, save a few of Blanton's intimate friends, dared 
enter the hut uninvited. 

The first thing on entering was to drink. 

Blanton produced a jug from under a rude bed. 

*' See here, ray friend," said Horace, firmly, " I am not a 
ilrinkiug man. , I drank with you ap at Pete's because 1 
didn't want a row. I'd rather eat lead than drink any more 
of that stuff. " 

''Waal, you can eat lead, then," said Blanton, coolly, 
drawing \u8 revolver. 

The thought flashed tlirough Horace's mind that the burly 
miner intended to make him dead drunk, and then get pos- 
session of the machine. 

He was quics in his conclusion and actions. 

Seeing Blanton drawing, he flashed out his revolver, cocked 
and leveled it at his head. 

Blanton was utterly dumfounded. He stared at the muz- 
zle of the revolver, and then at Horace. 

<s Yer've got the drop on me, pard," he said. 

** Yes," said Horace, "and I'll drop you if you move an 
inch. I want no trouble with you or any one else, but I'll 
kill any man who tries to bully me into eating or drinking, 
or doing anything I don't wish. This is a free country, 
where every man can do as he pleases, so long as he does 
not violate the law or interfere with his neighbor. Now, 
when I want a drink 1 take one, but not at the muzzle of a 
pistol, and " 

*' Stop your chinnin' or shoot!" growled Blanton. ''I'd 
rather be shot than talked to death." 

Horace laughed, lowered his weapon, and extended his 
hand. 

*' That's all right," he said; "you understand me now, 
and I know you don't mean to interfere with my right to 
drink or not." 

" Of course not, pard," replied Blanton, good-naturedly. 
*' It's just a way we have out hyer in ther mines." 

" Well, it's a bad way, and would put a man behind iron 
bars where I came from." 

But Horace saw a look in the man's'eyes he did not like, 
and resolved to get back io Pete's saloon as soon as he 
could. 

The sun was now behind the hills, and Horace expressed 
a wish to see some of the place before it became dark. 
" Wait and see it in Khf-r morniu'," said Blanton. 
Horace stepped outside the hut. 

There were hundreds of miners there who instantly made 
way for him, for the word had been passed out that he had 
got the drop on Jim and backed him down. 

He went direct to Pete's saloon, followed by the crowd, 
which whooped and yelled with unwonted enthusiasm. 

Pete was busy repairing the damage to his shanty. 

" Keep 'em off an hour, stranger," said Pete, " an' yer kin 
have a free run on my ranch." 

The crowd kept surginyt to and fro, and pushing so close 
on his heels that Horace concluded to make an ascension and 
give them time to scatter. 

" Gentlemen," he said, in a loud tone of voice, "TU go up 
again just to show you how easy it is to fly." 

When he was up out of range of pistol shot, he cried out : 

" Good-bye, boys!" and spread his wings, determined to 
go elsewhere rather than risk his machine in such a rough 
1 population as that. « 

Come back! Don't go, pard!" came up from a hundred 
throats. 

But Horace had had enough of that crowd, and sailed 
away westward, though the stars were beginning to peep 
out. 

**ril fly all night," he muttered, **if I can't find a jquiet 



place to sleep. I'd rather take my chances with Indians and 
bears than with that crowd." 

Mile after mile was passed, and the whole world belo^^ 
seemed a black mass, save where the stars were reflected 
back by some stream or pond. 

At last he espied a light which seemed to resemble a camp 
fire, and hovering over it, he tried to make out what man- 
ner of men the campers were. 

He could see several forms sitting or moving about, bat 
not sufiiciently plain to make them out, so he concluded to 
alight and approach the camp on foot. 

After hunting around for some time, he at last found a 
place where he could settle down and fold his wings. 

"Now for the camp," he muttered, and in a few minutes 
he was trudging along through a very rough, rugged, wood- 
ed part of a mountain side toward the camp-fire, glimpses 
of which he could see through the woods. 

When within a hundred yards of the camp, the thought 
occurred to him that he had better get out his gun, so as to 
be prepared for any sudden emergency. 

He had scarcely gotten the gun in his hands, than a fierce 
growl on his right startled him, followed by the breaking of 
twigs, as though some heavy animal was crashing through 
the bushes. 

Turning squarely around and facing in that direction, he 
saw a huge black object rise up higher than himself within 
six feet of where he stood. He could not see what it was, 
but instinctively tired at it, emptying both barrels at once. 

A roar followed, and the beast rolled over and over in the 
agonies of death, tumbling down the declivity further and 
further with each kick. 

Pretty soon all was silent. 

" Halloo there!" came a voice from the camp. 
' "Halloo yourself!" responded Horace. 

" Come in, stranger, an' bring yer b'ar." 

" Come out and lend us a hand," cried Horace again. 

Two men made a torch and approached from the camp. 
Horace saw that they, too, were miners. 

" What was it, stranger?" one of them asked, as he held 
up the light and looked at Horace. 

"Hanged if I know." 

"'Twas a b'ar," said the other, looking around him. 

" He rolled down the hill there somewhere," remarked 
Horace, reloading his gun as quickly as he could. 

The men looked around on the mountain side; and soon 
found an enormous black bear with half his head shot away. 

"He's a big 'un, stranger," said one of the men, "an' 
would have chawed yer up if yer missed him." 

" But I didn't miss," said Honice. "I never do." 

" Good! Wbat'll yer do with 'im?" 

" Got any fresh meat in camp?" 

" No, nor nothin'' else much." 

"Then we're in luck. Bear meat is good." 

" Yes, yer kin bet it is." 

" Cut him up then." 

In a few minutes the two miners were taking oflT the skin, 
and indulging in anticipations of a savory bear steak. 



CHAPTER XXIII. 

THE MINERS. 

Horace stood by and watched the miners take the skin off 
the bear, cut off the two hind quarters and hang up the rest 
out of reach of the wolves. 

Each of the two men took up a ham, leaving the skin od 
the ground for Horace to carry. 

" Shall I bring the skin? ' he asked. 

" Yes, if yer kin," was the reply. 

Horace thought he could anl proceeded to take it up. 

" B'iid anybody told me a bear-skin was so heavy T would 
have bet my last dollar against him," he said, at wliich the 
otlier two chuckled good-naturedly. 

" A b'ar wears a heavy overcoat, pard," said the leader. 

" Yes, and never complaias of the cold, I guess," replied 
Horace, following behind them, bearing the heavy bearskin. 



THE FLYING, MAN. 



25 



la a few minutes tiiey readied the camp, where three other 
miners were waiting for them. 

"Great b'ars!" exclaimed one of them, as the fine bear 
hams were deposited on a rock near the fire, ♦* sich eatin' ez 
we'll hev ter-night! I say, pard, ye never were so welcome 
in yer life;" and he seized Horace by the right hand and 
wrung it until it ached up to his shoulder. 

'* I am glad to be able to pay for my lodging," said Horace; 
"I'll help you to eat it, too." 

Six large slices were cut from one of the hams, and each 
man took a stick and held tlie steaks to the fire until they 
were well done, then coffee in tin cups and old-fashioned hoe- 
cakes completed the supper. 

Being hungry, Horace thought it a supper a king miglit 
envy, and did ample justice to it. 

He found them honest miners, prospecting for gold or sil- 
ver, and that hard luck was in close companionship with 
them. 

They were out of money and provisions, save a little flour 
and coflee. They now had plenty of fresh meat, and were 
accordingly in high spirits. 

"But what in blue blazes ar' yer doin' way out hyer with 
yer pack, pard?" one of them asked. 

"1 am going to San Francisco," he replied. 

"'Frisco!'' exclaimed the man, in utter astonishment. " I 
reckon as how ye're lost, pard." 

"I guess not. I'll get there in a few days, I think." 

" Few days! Why, pard, it'll take yer a week ter git outen 
these woods." 

" Oh, no, 1 guess not. I've come over two hundred miles 
to-day." 

The five miners stared hard at him and then at each other. 
One touched his forehead significantly and shook his head. 

Horace burst out laughing. He couldn't help it. 

" I'll make three hundred miles to-morrow," he said. 

" Oh, yes- you'll fly, I reckon," remarked one of the men, 
ironically. 

"That's just it, I travel on the wing. How else do you 
suppose 1 came down here in the woods?" 

"See hyer, pard," and the leader of the prospecters looked 
mad, " ef yer hed is cranky, yer kin talk as big as you 
please, but don't go for to cram such stufl'down us." 

" Do you want to see my wings?" Horace asked, springing 
to his feet and stepping out into quite an open space. 

"Yes, spread yer wings, ducky?' 

He touched the wings spring and the great wings spread 
out to either side, making him appear likd a great winged 
monster standing there ready to fly up among the stars. 

Tiie five miners sprang to their feet and gazed at.him with 
speechless amazement. 

"Do you give it up?" he asked. 

" Who be you, stranger?" gasped the leader of the five. 
" I am Horace Mellville, of New York, the inventor of the 
Flying Machine." ' 
"Kin yer fly?" 
"Yes, like an eagle.'' 

"That'll do," and the man stepped forward and grasped 
him by the hand. " I'll never say a man can't fly ag'in. I'll 
believe the storv about the green cheese in the moon, after 
this." 

Horace laughed and folded up his wings again, appearing 
like a peddler with his pack. 

Of course they asked him a thousand questions about his 
wonderful invention, all of which he answered as pleasantly 
as he could. 

They expressed themselves as under obligations to him for 
a supply of fresh meat, and showed him all the consideration 
in their power. 

He spent a pleasant night with them, and on the morrow 
thanked them heartily for their entertainment. 

"Now, you can see me fly," he said, after shaking hands 
with each of them and stepping out into the open space again. 
Touching the elevator spring and working the treadle, he as- 



cended straight from their midst. He did not spread his 
wings until a good distance up. 

Turning westward, he started off* with all his speed, in- 
tending to make good time during the day. 

"Colorado is a great country for rugged wilderness," he 
muttered, as he surveyed the grand panorama spread out 
before him. "But its people and wild beasts, so far as I 
have seen, are about alike. I would rather camp out alone 
than with such chaps as those Gold Gulchers. Those five 
miners seemed right clever fellows, though." 

Tlie day was fair and pleasant, and the wind in his favor, 
and evening found him approaching the plains beyond the 
borders of Colorado. 

CHAPTER XXIY. 

TURNING BACK THE INDIANS. 

Horace found a small settlement, where he obtained 
meals and lodging for the night, and early on the following 
morning astonished the simple-minded settlers by ascending 
from their midst. 

The last he saw of them they were still gazing up after 
him in open-mouthed wonder. 

He now saw patches of arid desert away on his extreme 
left, and knew that he was approaching the great Salt Lake 
basin. 

"TU stop and see the Mormons," said Horace, "and 
give them a little surprise. If I had some kind of disguise 
I'd play them a trick they would not soon forget." 

About noon he saw a war party of Indians going south- 
ward, and gave them something to think about by hovering 
over them for a half hour or so. 

"Ha, ha, ha!" he laughed, "they are going to hold a 
council about it. I'd like to know what they think about it, 
anyhow." 

After watching the council for some time, he concluded to 
alight on the top of a hill a quarter of a mile distant, in full 
view of the council. 

The Indians watched him with breathless interest, and 
when they saw him quietly fold his wings and appear in the 
form of a man with a pack on his back, the whole council 
fell prostrate on the ground and remained silent and motion- 
less. 

" By George!" exclaimed Horace, "I believe they think 
I am the Great Spirit of the Happy Hunting Ground. They 
certainly would not offer me any violence under the circum- 
stances, ril go up to them and tell them to fight no more, 
but to go liome and hunt the bufalo. I guess some of them 
will understand English." 

He then deliberately walked toward the band, which still 
remained prostrate on the ground, and put on all the dignity 
he could command. 

When within fifty yards of them he stopped, spread out his 
great silken wings, and cried out: 

"My red children, the Great Spirit is angry with you. 
Yon must no longer go to war with each other. The time 
was when all the land was yours, and you were a great 
people. War and pestilence have made you but few. Go 
back to your villages and fish and hunt, but fight no more 
except in self-defense. Steal no more horses; steal no more 
women, and be friendly with the while man. I have spoken!" 
and immediately he began to rise, passing so closely over 
the Indians that they actually felt the wind from his wings. 
' Soaring to a great height Horace watched the efi'ect of 
his speech on the savages. He saw them mount their ponies 
and turn their heads northward. 

"Good!" exclaimed Horace. "I've done some goodi 
Saved some scalps, and probably induced them to stop 
fighting among the different tribes. That alone will pay me 
for all this work and hard thinking." 

Sailing away westward the last he saw of the band was 
when they were crossing a small stream, and wending their 
way toward tie north. 

" What a tale they will tell when they get home! A fly- 
ing man gets away with them every time. Wouldn't it ere- 



28 



THE FLYING MAN. 



ate a sensation in Europe! Wonder if I can frijjhten the 
Mormons into giving up tlieir polygamy system? Of course 
they would find out the sell after awhile, and marry more 
women for spite." 

Just before sunset he saw a village ahead of him that 
plainly showed the presence of white men. The neat gar- 
dens, cultivated fields and pretty white cottages were a pleas- 
ing sight to the eye. 

"It's a Mormon village,*' muttered Horace, "and I'm go- 
ing to alight right in the public street." 

The village urchins soon saw him and instantly spread the 
alarm. Everybody ran out on the streets and gazed up in 
open mouthed wonder. 

Horace descended quickly and alighted in the most public 
street. 

The populace fled in dismay. 

" Be not afraid!" he cried out, '* it is II" not thinking that 
he had used the very words of Christ to his disciples when 
walking on the sea. >^ 

On hearing his words some ran shrieking through the 
streets; others threw themselves prostrate on the ground, 
and not a few old. men and women knelt down and prayed. 



CHAPTER XXV. 

DRIVEN OUT OF *TOWN. 

" Here's a go," said Horace to himself, as he saw the con- 
sternaUon he had created in the little Mormon village. If 
I were in Salt Lake City now I'd give them a revelation that 
would make some of them sick. They're great on revsla- 
tions, their Prophets are, I've read, and have had a good 
many of them. If I knew where to go for food and lodging 
to-night I'd give these chaps one now, but I don't, and that 
ends it." 

Seeing an old man down on hia knees not far away, pray 
ing with all his might, he concluded to end the farce at once 
by speaking to him. 

" Old man," he asked, " will you be so kind as to tell me 
where the village tavern is?" 

The old Mormon sprang to his feet and stared hard at him, 
rubbed his eyes and stared again. 

What's the matter with you?' Horace gravely asked. 

" Who— who are you?" gasped the old man, his eyes open- 
ing wider every moment'. 

My name is Horace Mellville, of New York. Hav3 you 
a tavern or public house in this place?" 

But you— fly!" gasped the old man, paying no regard to 
the question whatever. 

"Of course I do. Wouldn't you if you could?" 
But— but men don't fiy!*' 

"You saw me fly, did you not?" ^ 

"Yes— but— but " and the old man began to move 

away suspiciously. 

Horace looked at him with a half smile on his face. 

" Very well, old man,'' he aaid, " you will remember when 
too late, that you refused to show a stranger in your town 
the way to a public house." 

" No — no — I will show you!" exclaimed the old man, now 
terrified beyond expression. 

" Too late— too laie," said Horace, turning away; "you 
could have entertained an angel unawares, but you would 
not," and he walked away, going down the street which 
seemed to lead towards the business part of the village, hop 
ing to find a public house without asking any further ques- 
tions of any one. 

As he progressed, the villagers gave him the entire street, 
and rushed over to the old man to ascertain from him what 
the stranger had said; and his replies left them in still worse 
confusion, 

In the public house he obtained a room, and gave an order 
for a substantial meal. When the meal was ready he came 
down from his room without his pack, to find every door and 
window packed with eager, excited Mormons. 

When he had fiaished eating, a delegation of old men- 



seven in number — waited upon him to ascertain his business 
in that part of the country. 

" I have no business here at all," he s iid. " I live in New 
York, and am going to San Francisco. I never travel at 
night, after traveling all day, but stop over wherever I hap- 
pen to be, and can find accommodation and sleep." 

"You travel in such a peculiar way, young man,"sai|J^the 
spokesman of the party, " that we cannot allow you to stop 
in this village." 

" Why not?" Horace asked, greatly surprised. 

"Because if you commit any crime here we could not 
catch you." 

"Look here, old man!" and Horace's eye's flashed fire. " I 
am a law-abiding citizen of the United States; never com- 
mitted a crime in my life. By what right, then, do yon under- 
take to drive me out of the village for fear I will commit 
one? If I have the inventive tact to make a flying machine, 
I surely have the right to fly wherever I wish to go. Have 1 
harmed any ona in your village?" 

" Yes. You have alarmed our women and frightened a 
month's growth out of every child in the place. You cannot 
stop here, young man." 

" Not till morning?" 

" No; you must leave at once." 

"Very well, I will return when you least expect it, with 
the law at my back, and see if there is no compensation for 
this," and, going up to his room, he put on his pack and 
started down again; but before reaching the top of the stairs 
he noticed a small ladder that ran up through the scuttle to 
the roof. 

" By George!" he muttered, " I'll give him the slip. They 
shan't see me go, the old hogs!" 

He ascended the ladder and raised the cover, but found 
he could not pass through it with his pack on. So he 
stepped back and took it oflT, and passing it up through 
crawled after it, and then closed the scuttle. 

" They'll wonder what became of me down-stairs, and 
miss seeing me fly," he said, as he commenced working the 
treadle with his foot. 

He ascended, and spreading his wings sailed westward ' 
from the village. But he went scarcely two miles ere he 
saw lights which seemed to be about a farm-house. De- 
scending, he found it to be a well-to-do farmer's place. 

Walking up to the house he asked for entertainment for 
the night. The. farmer was a Welshman who understood 
a little English— enough to understand when he was offered 
money for anything. 

" Yes," he said, " come in." 

Horace entered, deposited his pack on the floor and 
made himself at home. 

There was a large family of women and children in the 
house, four women and , about fifteen children. 

" Mormons!" muttered Horace, as he gazed around at the 
group, when they again settled down after his reception. 

Soon after a young girl about eighteen years of age came 
ill and began playing with the children. 

She was petite and pretty, and Horace could'not help ad- 
miring her. , She seemed greatly interested in him, and kept 
casting sidelong glances at him. 

"What have you got in your pack, sir?'* she finally ven- 
tured to ask of him. 

"Nothing but my traveling apparatus, miss," he replied. 

"You are not a peddler, then?" 

"Oh, no. lam simply a traveler," and Horace smiled 
good-naturedly. 

The other four women,;the mothers of the children, sat near 
the old-fashioned fire-place chatting sociably together, but 
very busy sewing or knitting. So Horace watched his op- 
portunity to join in the frolics of the children, two of whom 
at once proceeded to make a pack of him by climbing up on 
his back. They raised quite a racket, and he managed to 
get quite well acquainted* with the young lady. 

" Which way are you traveling?" she asked, in a half whis- 
per, as the children raised quite a noise at the time. 



THE FLYING MAN. 



21 



"West. Why?" 

She l&id a hand on liis arm, and looked around suspicious- 
ly at the other women, whispering: 
" Oh, if I could only tell you!" 
"Why can't you?" 

She pointed witli hei thumb over her left shoulder at the 
four mothers, and shook her head. 

" Do you wish to get away from here?" he asked. 
" Yes— yes— yes 1" 

"Then be easy, for I can take,] you with me without the 
least trouble " 

She shook her head and looked incredulous. 

" You are on foot," she said. " They will catch us." 

" 1 am not a-foot. The fastest horse or tram in the world 
couldn't catch us." 

She opened wide her "eyes and stared. 

"Get ready to start at daylight," he said, "or come to my 
room and wake me up whenever you think best." 

"Do you mean it?" she asked, "and will you aid me in 
getting away frdm Uiah?'' 

" Of course. Where do you wish to go?" 

"All my people live in England, but I can earn my living 
<>ny where if I can get work." 

" You will not be afraid to go with me?" 

"No— no! You don't know my peril here." 

Pretty soon the farmer came in and engaged Horace in con- 
versation, during which time the young girl assisted the 
mothers in putting their respective children to bed, after 
which she retired herself. 

About daylight Horace felt a soft, trembling hand on his 
face. 

He grasped and held it. 

" It's time for you to get up, sir," said the young Tady. 
"Oh, is it you?" and he sprang out of the bed. 
She dashed out of the room. 

Horace aressed quickly, buckled on his pack, deposited 
money on the little table to pay the farmer for his keeping, 
and then slipped out to join the young English girl. 

"Come," she whispered, seizing him by the hand, "let's 
get as far away as we can before any one gets up. I have a 
cold breakfast for us both." 

"You are a brave, sensible girl," said Horace, passing 
around the house to the road with her. She almost made 
him run to keep up with her. 

Out in the road they ran down into a patch of woods 
where they were out of sight from the house. 

"Now I guess we had better stop," said Horace. "I 
don't travel much on foot. I'd rather fly." 

" Oh, would to Heaven you could!" exclaimed the young 
girl, wringing her^ hands. 

"I can, and carry you, too," said he. " Do you see 
this pack on my back?" 

"Yes." 

"Well, that is a flying machine. Now are you brave 
enough to fly with me?'* 

" Yes, if you promise to carry me safely." 

"That I will do. Come here, close to my side." 

She placed herself alongside of him and sufl'ered him to 
strap her to his side. 

"Now don't be frightened, fori have flown thousands of 
miles." 

" I won't be frightened as long as I am tied to you," said 
she. " Oh, if they should catch me again!" 

" Have you tried to get away before this?" 

" Yes, and they caught and carried me back." 

" Be easy," and Horace sent up the elevator, worked the 
treadle, and in another minute they were ascending above 
the tree tops. 



CHAPTER XXYI. 

FLIES AWAY WITH A MOBMON BRIDE-ELECT. 

The young girl clung to him as for dear life, and Horace 
kept assuring her of perfect safety. 

"I am nervous," she cried, "but not afraid. I would 



rather fall and be dashed to pieces than go back home down 
there." 

" You will not have to do either, my dear girl," said Hor- 
ace, spreading out his wings and adjusting the steel-fiamed 
chair, into which he seated himself and hoisted her around 
into hia lap. 

During the morning he told her all about liis wonderful 
invention, and of his adventures since he flrst began to fly, 
during which she regained her spirits and laughed heartily. 

Taking out the cold lunch she bad put up before leaving 
the Mormon's house, she spread it in her lap and ihey both 
ate heartily of it. 

Horace looked at his watch and found that he had been 
five hours on the wing. 

" Do you know how far we are from your last home?'* he 
asked. 

"No, I do not." 

" We have traveled over one hundred and fifty miles since 
we started." 
"What!" 

"True, every word of it. By sunset we will be three hun- 
dred miles awaj^, so you see pursuit would be impossible." 

"Oh, I am safe from them, and I ask no more." 

When sunset approached they began tolook about for 
quarters for the night. It was in a section where a white 
did not not live within fifty miles. 

They kept on, keeping a good lookout for a habitation of 
some sort. But everything was blank in that respect. 

" There's a stream over there," said Horace, pointing off 
to the right, " and we may as^ well drop down over there 
and get some water and cook supper." 

" But what have we got to cook?" the girl asked. 

"I see some fowls flying about, and a couple of them will 
do, I guess.'' 

Horace sent up the elevator and set it going; then folded 
the wings and thus let himself down gradually, 

"Unstrap, me, please," said his companion, and the next 
minute she was free, tripping and dancing about in the gay- 
est of spirits. 

Taking out his gun, Horace soon brought down a brace of 
large quail. 

Nettie, for such was her name, ran forward, picked them 
up and began to scatter the feathers with the rapidity of a 
machine. 

Horace gathered brush, made a fire and pitched his little 
tent close by. 

"Why, what else have you got with you?" exclaimed Net- 
tie, on seeing the tent. 

"I am an old traveler, you see," and Horace smiled as he 
went down to the stream for water, some of which he 
brought to h'jr. 

" We will have to camp here," he said. " You can occupy 
the tent and I will lie on the grass by the fire." 

" You are so kind that I don't know how to thank you. 
But I will prove my gratitude some time in the future." 

"Never mind about that. How delightful those birds 
smell! You are a splendid cook." 

"I am glad you Ihink so. I can cook anything I be- 
lieve." 

They ate a hearty supper and then sat and talked until 
they were sleepy, and then Nettie Howard retired within the 
little tent, and Horace stretched himself at full length on the 
grass. 

Soon they were both aSleep, and slept soundly until day- 
light. 

She was the first to wake up, and came out of the tent, 
when she made up the fire. 

"Ah, you are an early riser, Nettie!" exclaimed Horace 
on seeing her. 

"Yes; I slept soundly, though.'* 

He sprang up, went down to the stream with her, where 
they both bathed their hands and faces. Horace then took 
his gun and went in search of quail, of which he soon shot 
some half dozen or more. . ' 



28 



THE FLYING MAN. 



Nettie prepared and cooked with the greates t skill and 
celerity all the birds, so they would have provisions for the 
day. 

'* You beat all the girls for cooking I ever saw, Nettie," 
said Horace, as he began eating. *' If I were going to make 
a trip round the world I would want to take you with me." 

"I'm afraid^ we would bpth get tired of eating game 
without bread or coffee," she replied, with practical good 
sense. 

Horace laughed. 
This is my tirst long trip from»home. Of course I would 
be better prepared next time." 

Yes, of course, but one could live this way, though," 
and as they ate they chatted pleasantly. 

" There's no dishes to wash up," laughed Nettie. 

"Nor kitchen to sweep out," added Horace. " But we'll 
fold the tent and prepare to wing our flight toward the 
West." 

She assisted him to put the tent away, and then allowed 
him to strap her to his side again. 

As they rose up in the air they espied a small band of 
Indians creeping through the grass towards their little 
camp. 

" By George, we were off just in time, Nettie!" exclaimed 
Horace. 

" Yes; oh, I'm so glad !" 

In a few minutes the Indians were out of sight, for, with 
Nettie sitting comfortably in his lap, Horace was sailing 
away towards the Rocky Mountains with the speed of an 
eagle. 

We will not follow them in their adventures, but say that 
they reached San Francisco two days later, where they 
alighted on the outskirts of the city after dark, and then 
took the street cars. Putting up at a hotel, Horace told the 
story of the young English girl to the proprietor, saying 
nothing about his flying machine. 

" There is an Englishman and his wife stopping here," 
said the landlady, " and a few days ago they received notice 
from their maid that she was going to marry and remain in 
San Francisco. They may wish to engage another." 

So they did. Nettie was engaged at once, with the prom- 
ise of going back to England in the winter, 

CHAPTER XXYII. 

THE BIG WAGEK — MILLIE MORRIS AGAIN. 

Horace spent several days roaming about the city, seeing 
the sights and visiting places of interest. 

Wherever he went he heard comments on the accounts in 
the papers about the mystery of the "Flying Man," and the 
universal opinion was that the papers lied. 

Said one: 

" No man has ever invented a successful flying machine. 
It is contrary to all natural law." 

"I have seen one, sir," said Horace, modestly, to the 
man. They were at the hotel at the time. 

"Eh! what's that?" 

**I've not only seen one, sir," said he, ** but I have flown 
a mile high in one of them." 

"I don't believe you, sir," was the blunt rejoinder, as the 
man eyed him fvxym head to foot. 

"Do you wish to wager anything that I can't produce a 
machine to-morrow at noon with which I can fly above the 
city, across the bay or go a mile high with it?" 

"Yes," said the man. "I'U bet 100 to 1 on it, and for as 
much as j^ou please." 

"Let me see how much I have about me," and Horace 
examined his pocket-book to find that he had a little over 
$200 in his possession. "Here, I will put up $200 with the 
landlord. Cover it." 

The man promptly wrote his check for $20,000, and hand- 
ed it to the landlord, who took both as stakeholder. 

Of course the wager was the topic of conversation during 
the balance of the evening, and hundreds of questions were 
put to Horace. 



" Who is j^our man?" a sportsman asked. 
"I will do the flying myself," was the quiet reply. 
" Have you any more money you would like to put up out 
it?" 

"Nothing but my watch here." 
"How much is it worth?" 

" It was given me by my mother. I will not put it up." 

The next morning Horace found the young English girl, 
Nettie Howard, pawning a ring for $10, which' she had bet 
against $1,000. 

"Good for you, Nettie! I wish you had a thousand to 
put up." 

"So do I." 

At noon, precisely, there were several hundred people 
gathered in front of the hotel to witness the attempt to fly. 

Horace went out with his pack on his back, and at once 
sent up the elevator, worked the treadle,and slowly arose in the 
air, followed by a wild cheer from the mob. When up about 
a hundred yards, he spread his wings and took down the 
elevator. Then crying out to those below to say whether or 
not he was flying, was answered back: 

" Yes," from a thousand throats. 

Around and around he sailed, going higher and higher, 
until he was considererably more than a mile high. Then he 
crossed over the bay and back, and, after sailing over every 
portion of the city, making the Chinese believe he was the 
great dragon that tackled the sun or moon during an eclipse, 
he descended in front of the hotel again, when an immense 
crowd rushed to see him. 

Dashing into the house he had the pack locked up in the 
baggage room of the hotel. 

"Do ydu give it up?" he asked of the man who had made 
the bet with him. 

"Yes, d— n you! Where did you get that thing?" 

" Invenied and made it myself." 

" How much did it cost you?" 

"I^expended about $1,000 on it, I believe," 

" I will give you $10,000 for it." 

" I've refused five times as much, sir. It^s the only one I 
have. Pvejust made $20,000 with it, you see." 

The man turned away, very sore over his loss. 

The landlord got the check cashed and gave the money to 
Horace. 

Nettie Howard got her thousand, and was the happiest 
little maiden in San Francisco. 

" Now I can go home to England as a lady," she said, 
" and not as a servant. I never was a servant in my life, 
and don't want to be." 

" Is it necessary you should go to England at all?" Horace 
asked. 

"No; only I regard that as my home," she replied. 
" Ga to New York and go into business. A girl with your 
ready tact can make a fortune there." 
" I will do just as you say." 

After spending another week about San Francisco, Horace 
prepared to return to New York. Nettie was to go by rail 
in charge of the Englishman and his wife, while Horace 
went on the wing. 

On the way back Horace hunted up the'home of Morris, 
the old guide, in order to keep his promise to Millie. He 
succeeded in finding the mountain by which he was to know 
that part of the country, and proceeded to circle around, 
sweeping the country with his spy-glass. At last he saw a 
ranch off' on his right, and some one waving signals to him 
with something white. 

"By George!" he exclaimed, peering through hU glass, 
" that's Millie herself !" 

He immediately swooped down upon the ranch, and as he 
alighted Millie ran plump into his arms, hugging and kissing 
him at a fearful rate. 

" Why, you must be really glad to see me, Millie!" he ex- 
claimed, giving her a first-class hug. 

"Glad to see you! Why, Pve looked for you every day. 



THE FLYING MAK 



29 



and dreamed of you every night," she replied, with enthusi- 
astic frankness. 

"Oh, you shouldn't think so much of a young man," said 
Horace, gravely. 

Couldn't help it. Every young man can't fly," 

" But I might fly away with you." 

'* I wouldn't care if you did." 

Horace lookea keenly in her eyes, and saw that the open- 
hearted young girl had fallen in love with him. Bethought 
of Sadie and Essie, and his sister Laura, wondering what 
tliey would think of his falling in love with Millie Morris, 
who was as pretty as any of them, but so unsophisticated 
and countrified. 

She looked lovingly up into his face and asked: 

" Did you have a good time?" 

"Yes, a splendid time. Here, I have a present for you," 
and giving her a package, she hastily unrolled it, giving a 
scream of delight as she beheld material for three dresses 
and some handsome jewelry. 

How her eyes sparkled! 

It seemed like a small fortune to her. She had never pos- 
sessed such things before. In a little silk purse she found 
one hundred dollars in gold. 

"Oh, you are so good!" she cried, throwing her arms 
about his neck and kissing him again, just as her mother 
came out to join her. 

" Millie— Millie!" cried her mother. " Who in the world 
are you hugging and kissing so?" 

" Oh, mamma!" she exclaimed; '* this is Mr. Melville, the 
* Flying Man.' " 

Mrs. Morris was surprised, and almost smothered him 
with her thanks for having saved her daughter from the In- 
dians. 

" Come into the house," she said, **and rest, for I know 
you are tired and hungry." 

"I am not tired,'' he said, following mother and daughter 
into the bouse, " but I am both thirsty and hungry." 

Millie seized a pail and flew out of the door, hastened to 
the spring below the little hill, and soon returned with it full 
of pure, cold water. 

Mrs. Morris soon had dinner ready for him, and his hun- 
ger was satisfied. 

" Where is Mr. Morris?" he asked. 

"He went down the canyon last week," Mrs. Morris re- 
plied, with a troubled look on her face, "and hasn*t come 
back yet." 

" You are uneasy about him," said Horace. " Have you 
any reason to be?" 

"Yes. He was to have returned three days ago. The 
Indians have been troublesome below for some time." 

"I will go in search of him, then, as soon as I am rested, 
and won't give up till I And him, dead or alive." 

Mrs. Morris burst into tears, and Millie hugged him again, 
whispering in his ear: 

" Let me go with you?" 

*«No— no, stay with your mother." 

An hour later Horace spread his wings and arose in the 
air, turning southward and sailing grandly away, with the 
mother and daughter gazing at him from below. 

CHAPTER XXVIII. 

A SEARCH ON THE WING. 

The Flying Man had a big job on hand, and had but little 
idea how he was going to work It. In that vast country one 
hundred miles was not considered a great way otf for one to 
wander. How then could Horace expect to find the old 
guide in such a widespread scope of country, having no 
chart to steer by, or information as to the direction he had 
gone, save the vague word "southward?" 

Yet he arose to the elevation of a thousand feet, and sailed 
slowly along, sweeping the horizon in every direction, 
stretching mile upon mile on either hand. 

He thought that if the old guide should see him he would 
wave signals of some kind to him. 



The day passed, and yet nothing of the old guide was 
seen. He scanned every face upturned to him through his 
spy-glass, and, therefore, knew that Morris was not among 
them. 

Night came on, and he concluded to alight near a large 
sheep ranch. Alighting about half a mile away from the 
house, he walked the rest of the way. 

Several huge dogs ran furiously at him as he approached 
the house. He would have been compelled to use his re- 
volver on them had not a heavy-bearded man came out and 
called them off" in a graft" voice. 

" Halloo, stranger?" greeted Horace, approaching him. 

"Halloo yourself!" growled the man. "Who are you, 
and what do you want here?"' 

"I am a traveler, sir, and seek lodging for the night, for 
which I am both able and willing to pay," replied Horace. 

" What the devil are you traveling around here for? You 
can't stay here." 

"Indeed! Can you tell me how far it is to the nearest 
ranch?" 

"Seven miles, and on the other side of the canyon." 
" And you won't let me stay here to-night?" 
"No." 

" Very well, sir. When you come up my way you won't 
come in," and Horace pointed significantly at the sky over- 
head, at the same time stretching out his great wings and 
rising almost over the inhospitable rancliman's head. 

"Oh, Lord, have mercy on me!" cried the ranchman, his 
eyes almost popping out of his head with fright. "Come 
back— come back! Plenty of room!" 

But Horace didn't like the man's looks, and, therefore, 
sailed away in the gloom of the twilight, leaving the man' 
firmly persuaded that he had denied shelter to one from^the 
mystic land beyond the grave. 

The seven miles to the next rancli were soon passed over, 
and Horace saw the lights on the place. 

He applied at the house for supper and lodging. The pro- 
prietor assented, and he laid his machine aside to partake of 
a substantial supper of beef, bread and coff"ee. 

" Where are you from?" the ranchman asked. 

**I am originally from New York," he said. " I am look- 
ing for Morris, the old guide who lives up On White river. He 
came down this way last week, and has not been heard of 
smce." 

"I know Morris. He has not been down this way since 
October, or I would have heard of him. But how do you 
expect to find him on foot, and with such a pack as that on 
your back?" 

"I hardly knov;, sir," replied Horace, "but I am going 
to keep on till I find him. or ascertain what has become of 
him." 

" Why, the redskins will raise your hair before you go ten 
miles below here!" 

" How is it they have not raised yours?" Horace asked, 
with some degree of interest. 

"Because we are always prepared to give them a warm 
reception," was the reply of the ranchman. 

" Well, maybe I can give them a warm reception, too. I 
have a repeating rifle and a brace of revolvers." 

"Ha— ha— ha!" laughed the ranchman. "They'd raise 
your hair so quick you wouldn't know what did it. You'd 
better turn back and wait for Morris to turn up." 

" What have you for sale in your pack?" the ranchman's 
wife asked, as she and her buxom daughter gazed curiously 
at him. 

"Nothing, ma'am," re replied. 

They opened wide their eyes in astonishment. Horace 
thought he could read disappointment in the maiden's face 

"I only carry a few personal efl"ects in it," he explained' 
" such as I need on a journey like this." ' 

This apparently satisfied tiiem, and the conversation soon 
became very general in topic. Horace soon found himself 
by the maiden's side, and telling her of the sights to be seen 
in the great cities. 



30 



THE FLYING MAN. 



" Yea, that is my home— or rather I' live at Grey stone, in 
plain sight of the city." 

"How I would like to see it," she murmured, half to her- 
self. •* I know I would be cliarmed." 
. "Indeed you would, for there you can see the ships of all 
nations. Railroads run up in the air over house tops." 

"No— no," she said, " that cannot bs!" 

"It is indeed the truth." 

She mused a long time, and then turned the conversation 
to himself again, asking him a thousand questions as to his 
destination and future hopes. 



CHAPTER XXIX. 

A RANCH IN PERIL — THE PRIZE. 

How long he slept he knew not, but when he opened his 
eyes he saw the beautiful daughter of the host standing byt 
his bedside. 

" Mr. Mellville," she whispered, in a calm, quiet tone of 
voice, " the ranch is surrounded by Indians. Father and the 
men are out watching them. There will be a flght. You had 
better get up." 

"Of course I will," he said, springing out of bed, "and 
take a hand in the flght, too." 

To his surprise she took up one of his revolvers which lay 
on a rude table, and asked: 

" You have two of these. Will you let me use this one?" 

"Yes, if you will let me make you a present of it. You 
are not going to expose yourself, are you?" he asked. 

" I am going to help drive those fiends away," she replied. 
"It is me the chief wants, and the horses." 

"Indeedl Has he ever seen you?" 

" Yes, and asked my father for me last year. He has 
sworn to make me his wife at every hazard.*' 

" You— you wouldti't marry an Indian?" 

"No— never! I want a white husband or none; and he 
must be a gentleman, too," she replied, bravely. 

" Do you know how to use a revolver?" 

" Yes; I am a splendid shot." 

" We will go out then, and see what the rascals are up to," 
and they went down the stairs together, with no light save 
that from the full moon outside. 

They found the ranchman and his men, rifles in hand, 
watching the Indians. It was long past midnight. 

"How many are there of them?" Horace asked. 

" Too many, I fear,'' was the reply. " There must be two 
or three hundred of them." 

" When are they going to attack?" 

" I don't know— there comes one of them now to palaver." 

"See here, my friend," said Horace. "If you can humor 
them and keep t.iem waiting till daylight, I can either destroy 
or disperse them." 

" How in blue blazes can you do that?" the old ranchman 
exclaimed. 

"I have a machine in my pack that will do the work." 
" How do you know it will?" 

" Because' I have done it before when things looked worse 
than that," replied Horace, promptly. 

"I will trust you, for things look bad enough now," said 
the old ranchman; " you had better get back into the house 
till I see what that redskin wants." 

Horace and the young maiden returned into the hoise to- 
gether, leaving the old ranchman to parley with the Indian. 

The Indian came boldly up to the gate of the ranch, and 
spoke in broken Spanish. 

The ranchman replied, and asked: 

"What do you want?" 

"Jumping Buffalo wants the White Rose for a wife." 

" Tell Jumping Buffalo to come to me when the sun shines, 
and I will let him talk to the White Rose. She is asleep 
now." 

The Indian returned to Jumping Buffalo and repeated the 
answer of tlie ranchman. The chief was deceived. He sent 
word back that he would wait. 

The old man went into the house and told his daughter. 



"Mr. Melville says he can drive them away, papa," she 
said. 

"But can he do it?" 

"I believe him," she said, quietly, "and am willing to 
leave all to him. 

" Thanks," said Horace, bowing politely. "I will scatter 
them to the winds, even were there a thousand cf tbem. 

" But how? Tell me how you will do it. 1 want to know." 

" My friend, it is my secret. If I fail I will perish with 
you, therefore I have no motive for trifling." 

" That is enough, papa," said the girl. " Let us keep a 
watch till daylight and then the crisis wilfcome." 

The old ranchman went back to his post," and Horace was 
left again with the mother and daughter. 

" Will you tell me the secret?" she asked, laying a hand 
on Horace's arm, and looking up in his face. 
^ The moon shone through the window on her 'heroic face. 
She seemed more beautiful than ever. 

" Because you have believed and trusted me," he replied, 
in a low tone of voice, taking her handiri liis, " I will tell 
you — tell you all. To-morrow, as soon as the sun rises, I 
will take my repeating rifle, and fly over the Indian camp, 
and " 

" Fly, did you say?" she asked, interrupting him. 

" Yes, 1 will fly up high enough to be out of range of their 
rifles, and open tire on them. They will be so astonished as 
not to know what to do, and by the time a dozen or so of 
them are killed they will give up all thoughts of you and 
scatter in every direction." 

The maiden looked him full in the face, and asked : 
Are you speaking the truth?" 

" Yes, but I know it is hard for you to believe it. That is 
why I did not wish to tell any one about it till the time 
came." 

" I believe you," she said very quietl}^ 
"Well, I don'tl" said the mother emphatically. 
" You will at least keep the secret till sunrise," said Hor- 
ace, smiling. 

" Jea, of course I will," she replied. " But^you are a 
crazy lunatic." 
" Mamma." 

"Hush, daughter — wait and see," said the mother. 

" Yes, wait and see — that's all I ask," added Horace. 

It lacked but an hour now to sunrise, and the time soon 
passed, for Horace sat close by the maiden in the moonlight 
repeating many choice poems from memory. She was 
charmed beyond measure, and readily believed him when he 
said he had flown all the way from New York. 

At last the streaks of light in the east began to appear. 
It grew brighter and brighter and at last the old ranchman 
came in to remind him that it would soon be time for old 
Jumping Buffalo to put in his appearance. 

" Then I will get ready to attend to them," said Horace, 
going up-stairs and putting on the pack. 

He came down, looldng' like a peddler, and passed out 
into the yard. 

The whole family followed to see what he would do. 

Touching the secret spring, the elevator shot up above his 
head with a sharp click. It began to revolve. He shot up 
above the tree tops, and spread his wings to the morning 
air. 

The exclamations of the ranchman and his men were in- 
describable. 

He went up— up— np^ a thousand feet. The Indians did 
not see him until he was'Bigh up, and then they gazed up at 
him with a degree of interest that was exceedingly gratify- 
ing to the Flying Man. 

Taking his repeating rifle he aimed and fired. An Indian 
fell dead, shot through the head. 

The savages v/ere thunderstruck and thought that the 
shot had been fired from the ranch. 

Another shot and another savage fell. A third and a 
fourth gave up the ghost. 

They began to run hither and thither, but that merciless 



THE FLYING MAN. 31 



repealing rifle continued its deadly work at tlie rate of six a 
minute. 

When ten of their number had fallen the band scattered, 
screeching like so many wild demons. 

Horace followed overhead, and continued to pour death 
down upon them. 

In ten minutes not an Indian was in sight. Jumping 
Buffalo was dead, and his followers were in full speed to- 
ward their homes in tlie far south. 

Horace then circled around for half an hour, sweeping the 
country with his glass. Not an Indian was in sight. He 
then alighted in the yard of the ranch. The old ranchman 
ran forward and clasped him in his arms. 

"Young man," he exclaimed, "if you will stay with me 
I'll give you a wife and a half interest in the ranch." 

Horace looked at the girl. Her face was crimsoned wiih 
blushes. ^ ^ 

" I can't stay," he said. " I must find Mortis, the guide," 
and the girl quickly wheeled around and ran into the house. 



CHAPTER XXX. 

CONCLUSION. 

The old ranchman could never satisfy his curiosity about 
the Flying Machine. It was difficult for him to divest him • 
self of the idea that there wa.s something supernatural about 
it. 

But he had seen Horace's work upon the Indians, and 
therefore knew the value of it in that out-of-the-way part of 
the world. 

" Young man," he said, " you stay with me, and we'll make 
the biggest fortune in this country. I'll give you half my 
ranch, and " 

"That's impossible, my good friend," said Horace, inter- 
rupting him. "I have to return to New York when I find, 
Morris. I will pay you a visit, though, and see what we can 
do, some lime this fall." 

After breakfast Horace prepared to take up the search for 
the old guide. 

He took the maiden's hand, and said : 

"I am glad I came, for I have saved you a horrible fate. 
Will you let me come an(( see you some day?" 

Instantly a bright, happy look came into her face. 

" Oh, will you come and see us again?" she joyfully asked. 

"Yes, if you will let me," he replied. 

"Let you ! Why, I shall be ever so glad to see you!" she 
exclaimed. 

"Till then good-bye. Keep that revolver in remem- 
brance of our first meeting." 

He then bade them all good-bye, and rose up in the air in 
the presence of all on the place. 

His course was still southward. 

He had an idea that Morris had kept along the river 
course for some purpose. Over a vast scope of country he 
could have an unobstructed view. 

The day waned, and still he had seen nothing of the 
object of his search. 

But just before sunset he saw smoke rising several miles 
away, oh his right on the river bank. 

Bringing his glass to bear upon that point he saw some- 
thing that aroused all his interest. It seemed to be a small 
camp of whites besieged by an overwhelming force of In- 
dians, who were kept at bay only by the unerring rifles of 
the whites. 

He turned in that direction and hovered directly over the 
camp. Someone was frantically waving signals at him from 
the little camp of the whites. 

** That must be Morris," he said. At any rate, I'll pepper 
those redskins." 

Taking his repeating rifle again he opened fire on them. 
When seven of their number had fallen, the savages broke 
and fled, leaving the besieged free from molestation. 

He conld hear the shonts of joy that came up from the 
rescued whites, and he proceeded' to lower himself to the 



ground. Alighting within one hundred yards of the camp, 
Morris was the first man to come running to him. 

"Just in time, sirl" he cried, grasping his hand. "I 
knew you as soon as 1 saw your wings! You have saved 
our lives." 

" I am glad of that I came by your ranch on my way 
back to New York, and there heard of your absence." 

The other four men were hearty in their gratitude for the 
deliverence he had made for them. 

" How did you get into such a scrape?" Horace asked. 

"They came down on us and drove us southward two 
days, finally killing our horses. We fortified ourselues here, 
and fought 'em two days." 

"Good! I came just in time, then. Now, how are you 
going to get back without horses?" 

" Walk it," said Morris. " I don't mind walking." 

"Well, walk up to Bowman's ranch. I'll wait for you 
there, and have horses ready for you," said Horace, as he 
prepared to return to the ranch where he had spent the 
night. ' 

" Better camp here till morning,'' suggested Morris, and 
he concluded to do so. 

The next morning he mounted on the wing and started 
for the ranch, where he hoped to secure horses for the party. 

The old ranchman was surprised to see him back so soon, 
and the daughter seemed overjoyed. 

" Did you find Morris?" he asked. 

"Yes. They are a hundred miles down the river on 
foot." 

" I'll send horses for them at once." And the generous 
old ranchman did, Horace remaining there for three days 
for them to arrive. • . 

He spent nearly all that time with Rose Bowman, who 
seemed perfectly happy in his presence. 

At last Morris and his comrades arrived on horseback, the 
ranchman's men meeting them down the river after they had 
tramped fifty miles. 

They had a jollification over their rescue, and then resumed 
their journey the next day. Of course, Horace could not 
wail to travel on horseback. He resolved to mount on the 
wing and carry a letter to Mrs. Morris from her husband. 

Again he took leave of the old ranchman's family— this 
time kissing Rose before her mother and father, promising 
to come back in the fall and see her. 

He found Millie Morris watching for him. She waved a 
large white cloth as a signal to him, and he alighted by her 
side down at the spring. 

She ran into his arms, threw her arms about his neck, and 
kissed him a dozen limes. 

" Did you find papa?" she asked. 

"Yes; here is a letter from him. He will be here in a day 
or two." 

Of course the letter carried joy into the household. Horace 
was feasted like a king; remained over one night, and then 
took leave of ihem, to resume his homeward trip. 

Millie cried as though her heart would break. He prom- 
ised to return wiihin a month, and she dried her tears. He 
kissed her and left. 

We will not detail his adventures between there and New 
York, for they would fill a volume. We wdi reserve that for 
another time, when his extraordinary adventures in another 
direction startled the world, and caused him to be regarded 
as one of the most wonderful inventors of the age. 

When he reached the Hudson river, the stars were shining 
in a clear sky. He alighled on his father's place, at Grey- 
stone, quietly folded his wings, and marching up to the front 
door of the house, rang the bell. 

A servant opened the door and instantly recognized him. 
She gave a glad cry of: 

" Why, it's Mr, Horace?" 

Laura was sitting at the piano, with Sadie Winthrop by her 
side. They both sprang forward for the first kiss of wel- 
come — and got it? 

[THE END.] 



THE BOYS' STAR LIBRARY. 

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84 Figure Four; or, Simple Silas' Lost Trail, 

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85 The Young Life-Saving Crew, by Col. Ealph Fentoii 

86 The Haunted School-house, by Gaston Garne 

87 The Mysterious Sport, by Robert Maynard 

88 The Ocean Mystery, by J. G. Bradley 

89 Jack Bruce, the Star of the Circus, by C. Little 

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96 Two Comical Crusoes, and a Very Black Friday, 

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98 The Haunted Cave ; or, The Land of Wonders, 

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99 Old Sixty, or, The Last Run of the Special, by C. J^ittie 

100 The Young Balloonist i or, A Boy's Adventures in the 

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101 Two New York Boys Around the World, by Gaston Garne 

102 Phantom, the Prairie Trapper, by Paul Braddon 

103 "Stand Together;" or, The Young Firemen of Clinton, 

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104 Harpoon Harry; or, The Castaways of the Antarctic, 

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106 Simple Silas Among the Moonshiners, by Harry Rockwood 

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113 Lost in New York; or, A Country Boy's Adventures, 

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114 Simple Silas and the Night-Riders, by Harry Rockwood 

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117 Torpedo Tom ; or, What a Yankee Boy Can Do, 

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130 Matt Mizzen, the Young Rover, by Gaston Garne 

131 From Wine to Ruin; or, Jack Jordan's Peril, 

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No. 

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133 The King of th-^ Clouds, by Walter Fenton 1 

134 The Hidden Cave. A Legend of the Ohio, by Don Jenarco 1 

135 Little Luke, the Boy Driver of the Mines; or, The 

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136 The Diamond Bullet, by Gaston Garne 

137 Old Bob Gray; or, The Lone Trapper of the Rockies. 

A Story of Wild Adventure, by C. Little 

138 The Red Pirate; or, The Island of Death, by J. G. Bradley 

139 The House on the Hill, by Don Jenardo 

140 Dashwell, the Detective; or. The Mysteries of Seven 

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141 The Dead Avenger; or. Denounced from the Grave, 

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Story of Circus Life, by Lieut. E. H. Kellogg 

143 Tracked for Years, by Corporal Morgan Rattler 

144 The Dwarf Bell-Ringer; or, the Mystery of the 

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145 Ranch 5. A Story of the " '49ers," by Robert Maynard 

146 The Black Cross ; or. The Mysteries of the Jungle. 

A Tale of India, by Robert Lennox 

147 Keen Kit; or. The Border Detective Among the Mor- 

mons, by Walter Fentom 

148 The Seciet Den ; or, The Mississippi Pirates, 

by Don Jenardo 

149 The Masked Safe-Blowers of Chicago, by Walter Fenton 

150 Yogiene, the Unknown Wonder of the Border, 

by Paul Braddon 

151 The Mad Midshipman; or. The Pirate's Last Cruise, 

by Gaston Garne 

152 Emerald Pat; or, The Orange and the Green, 

by Sergeant O'Donnell 
158 Born to Be a Middy ; or, On and Off a Man-of-War, 

by J. G. Bradley 

154 The Circus Runaway; or, The Boy Trainer and His 

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155 Luke Bland ; or, Piping a Dreadful Crime, by Tom Fox 

156 The Broken Vow ; or. The Lion Tamer's Oath, by C. Little 

157 The Firebugs of Chicago, by Horace Appleton 

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159 Crookf^taff, the Ranger; o,r. The Outlaws of the Hills, 

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160 Liontine, the Pirate's Daughter, by Lieut. E. H. Kellogg 

161 Continental Dick, the Dread of the Tories, , 

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162 The Young Brigand Chief, by Robert Maynard 

163 The Black Hand ; or, The Mystery of a Rinsr, 

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164 Just in Time; or. The Plot That Failed, by P. T. Raymond 

165 Bold Ren Bryan, the Yankee Sailor Boy, by J. G. Bradley 

166 Hunting the Wolf-Killers; or, Perils in the Northwest, 

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170 The Gipsy's Curse; or, The Revenge of a Lifetime, 

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172 Dragon Dick ; or. In Pursuit of a Mountain Bandit, 

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173 From East to West in a Balloon, by Gaston Garne 

174 Around the World in the Air; or. The Adventures of 

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175 The Death Spell; or. The Black Voodo's Vengeance, I 

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176 The Boy Jockey ; or, Fame and Fortune on the Race- 

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177 Big Carlos, the Giant Pirate, by J. G. Bradley 

178 Hank Hamilton, the Blue Grass Detective; or, The 

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